


The Fate Changed Now What?

by Krysania (Tat)



Series: Fate's [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, F/M, Friendship, M/M, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2017-11-07 09:14:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 311,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/429367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tat/pseuds/Krysania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by Fate's Favorite. In a world where Tom's plan succeeds and he manages to take Harry back to his own time, plus a guest, things seems to be well on their way for perfect but are they? Or, alternatively, how Tom and Harry set to take over the world...TMR/HP.<br/>A gift to my dearest friend Fictionist in the deepest thanks for an incredible story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Back to 1945

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Fictionist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Fictionist/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Fate's Favorite](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/15450) by The Fictionist. 



> My dearest friend The_Fictionist betaed and cheerleaded endlesly this work.  
> Also my dears Shedevil628 and minidraken (from FFnet) gifted me with their betawork.  
> Both have my friendship and endless gratitude.  
> <3 <3 <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Fate's Favorite. In a world where Tom's plan succeeds and he managed to take Harry back to his own time, plus a guest, things seems to be well on their way for perfect but are they? A gift to our beloved Fictionist for her exams and in thanks.

**Chapter One: Back To 1945**

**_Tom's pov_ **

Tom Marvolo Riddle closed the fifth grimoire with a frustrated hiss, if he hadn't found something, suitable, so far, he doubted that he was going to find it in this book. He tried to completely clear his mind but a touch of his thoughts stubbornly remained scattered.  
_Something was very wrong with Harry_.

Lamentably, it wasn't only contained in his unnatural, extreme even for a half Gryffindor, recklessness. It had started rather small at the beginning, seeming like nothing more than the expected depression out of his plan's success. But, as the months passed, the symptoms just vanished for a time only to manifest again stronger than before...

And Harry, the fool, wasn't accepting that he had a problem and by doing so let him help. No the idiot acted like everything was fine and Tom, himself, was twice the fool for falling for that, too close to the problem to be impartial. He had been forced to put some, unwanted, distance between them to finally understand all the implications and still needed more, desperately so, if he was going to do something to save him.

There wasn't a question in that. He hadn't done everything he had done to lose Harry now that he had him exactly where he dreamed him... His hands were trembling, he forced them to stop, to twirl his wand until he calmed. He still burned to thrash the room, maybe the castle. No it wouldn't do. He hardly needed his roommate to become aware of his aggravation.

 _His roommate,_  Tom smiled darkly; he needed a distraction...   
_M_ _aybe if he pondered his other problem?_

A year and six months ago, in a rare act of impulsiveness, he had grabbed Hermione Granger, the last moment, before they returned to the past. He had done so with the prospect that she could help keep Harry grounded and even in case that she died in the trip Harry would have appreciated that he tried.

Granger had certainly fulfilled his expectations; her mere presence had kept the immediate freak-out at bay and a few judicious threats to her well-being had kept the outburst at a minimum...(Two weeks of unconsciousness wasn't that hard a price to keep Harry, he expected at least that much.)

Not only that but, after her own shock had passed, she had helped her friend initially come to terms with what happened and later on she assisted him in aiding Harry to adjust in his life with a medium of peace if not contentment. Tom could privately admit to himself that held a trace of gratitude to the mudblood for that. Not that any other of Harry's little friends couldn't have done just as nicely in the end, but at least Granger could be tolerable for most of times.

 _Salazar!_    
The mere thought of having to endure the idiotic ginger or the spacious blonde made him cringe but, truthfully, they could have been more easily controllable. Granger, in her time here, had grown in leaps and bounds, like the Ravenclaw of her resorting.

She had adjusted to her circumstances by reading any book she could find, only this time no book was too dark for her to touch and it wasn't long before she was recognised as the second best student in Hogwarts, a hairbreadth behind him, so much so that he himself had started studying even harder to keep the first place.

That alone was irritating, yet it wasn't the main reason that he resented her.  
No the problem was that Granger wasn't as easily dismissible as those idiots. The mudblood, no, no mudblood, her capabilities had made her rise above her station.  _ _–__ Mudborn, that was more appropriate _ _–__  wasn't one of those that could be left alone to live their tiny insignificant lives without being a dump to his plans.

No, Harry had been proved right,  _damn him_ , Granger's formidable intellect was almost in par to his... and while she wasn't as powerful or knew him that well  _ _–__ _like Harry did_ _ _–__  (she wasn't his equal after all) she wasn't someone that he could leave unattended, or an asset he was prepared to lose. However, he also couldn't dare to use her with her loyalties attached only to Harry. The only way he could afford her alive was if she was equally devoted to him as well, which at present was impossible... Unless he did something drastic...

As the elimination of the problem was unattainable there was only one solution left available to him. While the logic of the plan was implacable it was also vaguely distasteful and had left him a bit uneasy. So he had stalled, atypically hesitant upon the longevity of his plans, until the start of term, when he forced himself to discreetly start courting her. Not to much effect. Because, while Hermione Jean Granger was attracted to him, or more precisely his body and intellect, she also held a healthy dose of fear for the rest of him and so had turned him down.

It didn't deter him for long of course. Long ago, after that slap, he had sworn to himself that he was going to make her eat out of his hand. He didn't need to hurt her to win. A few heirs and enough research material were going to keep her distracted, useful, and obedient. Then the threat of her influencing Harry against him was going to be forever neutralised.., and of course the pettiest reason, taking away that much of Harry's time and attention... Yes, Tom was that much territorial and he didn't mind it in the slightest.

The only reason he had to hurry was that he should ascertain his position before the school year was over; else he run the risk that she would run away or start opening her mouth in front of the wrong people.  
Thankfully not Dumbledore, having a person's future self thrown a killing curse at her best friend did that to a woman.

Tom stalled because he didn't want to get married and bind himself in any way.  _ _–__ _It wasn't that Hermione wasn't beautiful_ _ _–__  or that he didn't want her willingly surrendering herself to his power, or even that he wasn't going to enjoy the intellectual debates they were going to have. But he would rather not have to present a mask in his private time as well, or even hold himself back,  _he had grown indulgent in the last years_. It wasn't like it mattered if it was Hermione or someone else, people tended to be unable to handle the full bear of his personality. Only one person could and Harry was out of the question.

_It was the right thing for him._

Everything in Hermione fit perfectly in his long term plans _. Short term..._  Tom smiled wickedly. The perfect way to take revenge to all those purebloods that had dared to snub him and make his life hell in his first year at Hogwarts. Far crueller than simply have them debasing themselves in front of him, he was going to raise a mudblood above them. No one was going to dare say a word against it. Even Walburga...  _the cheek of the woman_ _!_  To dare proposing him like she was doing him a favour? This was going to hurt her worse that crucio.

The sound of light steps indicated that the Head Girl was approaching. Tom returned to his thick tome, it was better to have her guessing.  
"Tom?"

Hearing her soft voice he finally raised his head, playing the distracted.  
"Hermione," he acknowledged and, after marking his book, got swiftly to his feet. "How can I help you?" he asked coolly but not cold.

Finally he checked her appearance. He had chosen well. The soft cashmere dress was hinting her soft curves without being tacky, or over conservative, while the burgundy colour was making her skin seem aglow. Even her hairstyle, while not very elaborate, was elegant. All in all, well complimenting to his own appearance. They were going to be the most enviable couple of the night.

Hermione was blushing furiously under his direct gaze even though, except a cursory glance, he had kept his eyes respectably to her face.  _Good_ , it wasn't going to be long now.

"Forgive me," she said at least, "but you had offered to escort me at Professor Slughorn's party and it's already eight. If you changed your mind, I won't hold you to that." she concluded proudly.

_He was perfectly aware of the time, thank you very much, in five minutes was going to collect her himself but he rather preferred it that she came to him._

"There is no need for that," he told her sharply, "Slughorn's parties can be rather tedious and I would much prefer to finish my book but he is too useful a connection to consider dumping him, especially tonight,"

Hermione knew him far too well to believe him only on charm, so he always used some biting truth to lull her in a false sense of security. It worked this time as well, her eyes lowered sadly.  _Hook, line and sinker..._  He shrugged.  
"You know how easily I get bored; at least I prefer your company to some insipid idiot's."

Her whole face glowed at his covered praise, Tom smirked deep inside.  _Time for the kill_... without warning he conjured a delicate gardenia, well aware at how much terrified and excited, she got from his wandless and wordless magic.  
"Allow me?" he asked with a calculatedly lowered voice.

Hermione, nodded her acceptance awkwardly, her mouth obviously too parsed to say a single word. He took his time sticking the flower, lingering just enough to make her feel it, but not enough that she could blame him that he was taking liberties. It was enough. Her breath was laboured and her eyes so dilated that the milk chocolate had turned to bitter.

 _Finally!_  If he played his cards right he was going to have her, tonight.

* * *

 **~*~**  

* * *

**_Hermione's pov_ **

Hermione felt like her heart was going to leap out of her chest and hated herself for it. She tried to slow her breathing, to not show him how he was affecting her, but it was too late. She saw the minuscule rising to his lips and glared.  _Bastard!_

"Shall we go, my dear?" he offered her his arm.

"Yes my Lord." she saw his face lighten and her stomach dropped for giving him that much. She accepted his arm, cursing herself, all the way down the stairs.

 _Why the hell had she done so?_   _Because,_  her inner self told her resolutely,  _his smile for a moment had been real not faked and she found herself very much wanting to please him._

After all, academically speaking, he was a Lord. Only three persons in this castle and probably England held that kind of power: Dumbledore, to which she was going to be damned if she offered any kind of respect ever again, Tom and Harry. Which was still strange, to think her best friend in terms like that.

But that didn't answer the question. Why did must be Tom of all people the one that affected her that much?  
It wasn't like she didn't knew how dangerous he was long before she ended in this timeline. Yet, from the moment she stepped into the past, there was barely an insult flung at her. More, many, many times that Tom had decidedly protected her. She couldn't help but start to trust him.

Attraction was the natural next step. It wasn't just his classical beauty or the amazing way he carried himself that made her incapable of taking her eyes from him when he walked into a room. No, it was his mind that left her in awe. His ideas in magical theory were mesmerising, Hermione found herself learning more in a single conversation with him than she could learn in class at a whole year.

Even his political ideas weren't that bad, she suspected that they were softened a great deal thanks to his association with Harry, but that was hardly a negative thing and she had come to see her best friend's point. Tom was going to prove himself very much the Lord in the future, but Voldemort? No way in hell.

_If only she could have a look in his private stash of books..._

"Tom?" she asked tentatively as she realised that she had been silent for almost five minutes and they had left the Gryffindor part of the castle behind. Tom didn't take it well when he was ignored.

"Yes Hermione." he answered playfully clearly amused.

For a moment Hermione was floored then realisation stuck, the bastard had probably legimens her. It wasn't past him. She gritted her teeth and asked the question.  
"That book you were so engrossed what was about?"

"Obscure Blood Rituals by Janos Loxley."

Hermione instantly forgot her anger.  
"Really! I have read references about this book where did you find it?"

Now Tom was indeed amused and not in a superior way.  
"Black library, I can lend it to you later if you want."

"You will do that for me?!"

"Why not? Its not like you won't appreciate it, or you will start preaching about the Light like you did before." he winked at her.  
"After all I owe you one..."

Hermione felt warm all over but if she had learned a thing it was to be wary around Tom, especially, when he was generous.  
"Why?"

All traces of amusement left Tom's face. He was serious like the grave.  
"I owe you for making that suggestion. Harry would have never accepted it from me."

Now Hermione was all business.

"I didn't do it for you Tom," she told him softly. "Even if he won't come after you he would have gone against someone else for not agreeing in his black and white world. He had set Harry to d..."

She didn't manage to complete her sentence, Tom's fingertips covered her lips and he bowed his head to whisper in her ear, a gesture both tender and startlingly intimate.  
"Later, there are portraits here." Hermione nodded her acceptance, crimson from his proximity, Tom laughed at her reaction, a warm and strangely sensual laugh.

Hermione found herself relaxing.

They started to walk again, barely five paces when Tom told her completely casually.  
"You know Hermione I could show you even more of Loxley's books later tonight together with some warm coffee."

Hermione found herself agreeing without thinking about it.  
"I would love that."

They reached Slughorn's office and Tom courteously opened the door for her. But all the genial mood of the night was dispensed like smoke upon hearing Tom's angry, low, hiss.  
"What the hell is she doing here?"

Hermione took a careful look to see who had angered Tom so and had to take a double take. Harry, for once, had beaten them at being in time and, even more outrageously, he was escorting Minerva McGonagall. She felt her mouth hanging open, that was certainly not a pairing she was expecting to see, but her reaction was nothing compared to Tom's, Hermione felt her legs almost turn to jelly, he looked ready to murder the whole room.

Within an instant the lethal expression was gone like it had never been there. Silently Tom offered her a chair and sat beside her at Harry's other side. She felt bad about the cool greetings, which extended to her, but it was kind of inevitable–their fight was only just a few hours ago.

With an amazing abundance of self control Tom greeted everyone politely, managing to look gracious and un-conceited while Slughorn was gushing about him and Harry, as the guests of honour, and even made some small talk until everyone's attention was at something else. Then and only then he started hissing low and menacing.

Hermione tried to calm down the fear that was coursing her body but it was difficult, she was never completely without fear towards Tom but it was times like these that she remembered with complete clarity that the only thing that was stopping Tom, charismatic, brilliant Tom, from the path of a madman that had killed millions was the friendship of a self-sacrificing teenager.

And while, after everything that had happened, she had started to believe that Tom indeed was never going to become Voldemort, there was a great gap between 'Not Voldemort' and boyfriend material. Tom hadn't lifted a finger at her and was always sort of courteous, but he was always a violent person, there was not denial there. _Could she really trust him her heart with something more than the hope that he will not abuse her?_

Holding back a sigh she turned her attention back to her guys. Harry was hissing back and while he had learned to keep his face expressionless, his eyes were anything but. They were both furious, their magic was clashing and Hermione was wondering why no one was paying attention to them? The power they were generating was something beyond charts.

Minerva's eyes were unfocused; at a closer glance everyone's eyes except Zev's, Abraxas' and Alphard's were unfocused if they looked at the guys. Hermione relaxed, it was just a modified 'notice me not'. Still the fighting was taking a long time and as usual Tom and Harry were totally absorbed at each other.

Suddenly Hermione was missing Ron terribly. Whatever other faults the redhead may had she never doubted that he loved and wanted her with all his heart. Seeing Tom with Harry now she very much doubted that love was going to play a part in any relationship she could have with him, at least not towards her.

But Harry had never lied to her face and if he told her that he and Tom weren't lovers, that he saw Tom as family, in a way that he never even dreamed the Dursleys being to him, Hermione believed him. And yet there were still many  _ifs_  in that equation and that was keeping her in the precinct. Never giving in to Tom but also never demanding of him to leave her completely alone.

Finally, the fight was over. Professor Slughorn with most of his guests were blinking and Tom was looking at her. His expression was stormy but as their eyes met he relaxed. Hermione tried to tell herself that it meant nothing but her heart was an idiot and didn't believe it.

Tom kissed lightly her fingers and it was a struggle for her not to swoon. No one had ever treated her like that, not even Victor. But Tom was frowning again, pointedly not looking towards the low snickering that was hearing from Harry and Minerva.

Hermione squeezed the hand that was still holding hers.  
"It is only Minerva, Tom, how bad can this be?"

Tom levelled her with such a potent glare that Hermione wanted to hide under the table. Still she held her ground.

"Really Hermione, it is only Minerva," he parroted her, his voice velvety soft with mockery.  
"Do the words 'Dumbledore's apprentice' mean nothing to you then?"

Those violet eyes, that could put on shame Elizabeth Tailor's, were promising that death was going to be a retrieve if she dared to challenge him. Still, Hermione wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing, and after all, for all his threats, Tom hadn't really hurt her, not even once.  
"Minerva is far from worthless and an open-minded person. If Harry puts his mind on it, he could change her mind and make her join our side." she lowered her voice even more. "Like you did with me."

"Maybe," Tom conceded at least. But Hermione wasn't fooled.

Tom was neither prepared to agree with her, nor even slightly appeased with her trick. He was humouring her, while his anger was still bubbling inside him at alarming rates. She wondered, with a sinking heart, if that anger had even the slightest to do with Minerva's apprenticeship.

* * *

  **~*~**  

* * *

**_Harry's pov_ **

_How dare Tom dismiss him like that?_  Harry was fuming.

He hadn't spoken to him since their fight, after the battle, and he only did it now just to berate him again. It wasn't that he didn't have some right to be pissed with him, but how in Salazar's name was this giving him a say to who he dated or even kept company with, Harry couldn't fandom, Tom, barely had time for Harry, once in a while, after all.

Harry recalled their discussion in a flash.

 _{_ _ **'Back to your Gryffindor's roots Hero? You could do better.'**_  Tom's tone was full of calculated indifference yet held an edge.

Harry's hackles rose and the instinctive reaction were to protect his ex-professor.  
_**'Leave Minerva out of it, Tom, I mean it.'**_

Tom frowned and he softened his voice to that fake sweetness that spoke of danger.  
_**'Oh, its Minerva now, have you forgotten who is she?'**_

 **'** _ **She is just a young woman, our age, Tom.'**_  Harry tried to reassure.

Obviously to no effect as Tom's lilting tenor got the sharpness of a whip.  
_**'She is Dumbledore's apprentice.'**_

 **'** _ **So?'**_  
The discussion had started going at Harry's nerves.

 **'** _ **You are either a fool, or you decided to return to his side.'**_  Tom's voice was devoid of all emotion, even the minuscule amount of it, present, when he was really angry at him.

 **'** _ **I wouldn't do such a thing. Tom.'**_  Harry tried to hide how hurt and worried was from Tom's words but it bled through.

Tom understood.  
_**'Really darling, after yesterday, you could have fooled me.'**_  his voice was full of irony but alive again.

 **'** _ **We saved lives yesterday! Nothing else...'**_  Harry could never regret that.

 **'** _ **You can't be that oblivious to the consequences, Harry. To top that, you didn't even leave me much of a choice.'**_  pure, frozen, nitrogen...

 **'** _ **Oh!'**_  he suddenly understood.

Tom had gotten pretty good at accepting Harry's need to save people and to his own oath's pressure to help, but he usually got the courtesy of being asked. This time there was no time for a 'by your leave.' It didn't help that, on top of that, Harry risked their whole future.

 **'** _ **Yes, oh. Grindelwald will be gunning for us, we'll be lucky if he even bother duelling Dumbledore.'**_  Tom told him snidely and Harry had to ground his teeth at having things explained like if he was a little kid.

 **'** _ **I'm sorry for risking everything but not for saving lives.'**_  Harry all but spat out.

 **'** _ **Why I'm not surprised? Try to think, for once, next time.'**_ the parting tone was indifferent, completely dismissive. It made Harry wish to break something at the table, preferably Tom's head.}

How could Tom even think that he could ever put a plan above so many lives Harry couldn't fandom. Didn't Tom knew him at all after all those years? A more hopeful part of himself thought that Tom could be pissed for bringing Minerva to the party and even be a smidgen of worried for him, but in the end Harry dismissed it. Maybe it held some truth, but after he managed to bring him in the past the only thing that truly mattered to Tom was  _'Their Future'_.

If Harry wasn't certain that he would get questions he didn't desire to answer he would have gone for another firewhisky. Anything to get the hollow feeling to leave him, he wanted to forget. As things were, he just tried to pay the utmost attention at everything Minerva was saying while doing his damnest best to not overhear Tom and Mione's discussion. He preferred not to know.

And Minerva, sharp tack that she was, it didn't take her long to figure out that he was spacing from time to time but instead of calling him out she was simply giving him a sharp look, or a small nudge, and continued talking to cover him.

 _Good girl, Minerva, the best_ , with a mischievous side that he would never have dreamed to imagine his old transfiguration professor, or even the strict Head Girl, to have. They were going to be great friends with Minnie given enough time.  
Or so Harry believed.

What he did knew for sure was that he was going to do his damnest to make certain that she wouldn't spend her life, a second time, pining for a man that, while never wanting her as a woman, kept giving her false hope to keep using and manipulating her...  
_All for the 'Greatest Good' of course._

_What a couple they were!_

Lestrange must be laughing his arse off, in the grave. But then again, he may as well be howling in horror. Since, in the warped way he had perceived things, Tom couldn't end with someone less completely unworthy to be with, not even Harry.

He couldn't find in himself to shed a single tear for the man for all his youth. Harry wasn't naive; he knew that it was coming. Tom wasn't the type to let pass, never mind forgive, the kind of acts that Cygnus had done (mostly his attempts at Harry's life) and while he could forgive for himself, Hermione was a completely different matter. Harry couldn't regret Lestrange's passing, or even the part he played there.

But maybe because Fate was indeed Karma, Cygnus Lestrange had indeed every reason to laugh at him beyond the grave.

With the shock of returning to the past, for good, Harry had latched to Tom with all his might, as a means for sanity. How those emotions grew over time Harry couldn't say, but he became aware to his changed feelings for Tom well into the latter's courtship with Hermione. He still wasn't quite sure that what he felt for Tom should be called  _'In love'_  or  _'Stockholm's syndrome'_  but he certainly didn't have any other excuse for his jealousy.

Harry saw the possible romance way long before it happened. He had barely started becoming friends with Tom, in his first foray into the past, when it randomly crossed his mind that Tom could be perfect for Hermione and vice-versa. In his own time it didn't amounted into much, as there were too many things to be considered, even for a simple polite conversation.

But as they returned into the past things started going into the way Harry imagined them. First it come the curiosity, then the fascination, in short, it followed an almost parallel line to the strange friendship that Tom had build with Harry, but as Hermione was a girl and a genius, things were bound to go farther as well.

By everything that had meaning Harry should have been happy for his friends.  
He told them, separately, and to himself, that he was. But as the months passed he couldn't deny how his hackles rose when Tom followed Hermione with his eyes, how he wanted to tear them apart when he saw them study side by side.

Of course his denial persisted: he didn't have that kind of feelings for Tom, was merely just as derangelly possessive as Tom... and so forth... or so told himself until Tom changed his behaviour and he was forced to open his eyes.  
To be fair with Tom though, he didn't simply drop Harry to go and spend time with his new interest (toy) far from it. The friendship remained much the same with a single change: the tactile part of said friendship lessened gradually up until recently, and then it dropped completely.

Harry was completely floored with how much he missed Tom's touch. No one else's touch could affect him just as much, or was in truth wanted. He found himself dreaming of more elaborate touches, nothing overtly sexual, but still skin on skin. (Which kept him on hoping it was a fluke for a while longer) but in the end the longing got too hard to bear the lie.

In a crazy, Gryffindor, moment he thought about confessing Tom everything. Hadn't everything else being proved mutual between them? But in the end his cautious side prevented. (Yes, he had one of those) Just because he was freakish enough to discover that he wanted his best friend after years of denial didn't mean that Tom felt the same. His battered self couldn't bear the thought to be despised, like Lestrange, or worse.

He had found himself in this time, with only Tom, Hermione and the Slytherins to be called his people; everyone else was lost to him forever. The only meaning in his life was to help on Tom's success while ensuring that he was never becoming Voldemort. If he failed at that it was better to not live...

Or those things he told himself. The main reason he allowed himself to be such a bloody coward was because Tom could be a sick bastard and he feared that if he learned the truth he could play with him out of curiosity. Harry would much preferred it if he was left with something alive inside him after all.

_Damn him! He sounded like a bloody girl!  
_

Harry started bringing the firewhisky glass again in his lips. Maybe as it burned down to his stomach it would ease a bit the hole in his soul. He didn't manage to complete the move...

...Minerva's small but firm hand stopped him.  
"Please don't."

Harry smiled sadly and put down his glass she deserved a far better escort than him.  
"Would you like me to escort you back to your room?"

"Yes please," Minerva smiled tiredly looking as weary as he felt.  
They made their excuses. Harry weaved with fake cheer to Mione and the others but avoided Tom's eyes at all costs.

Back to her room Minerva kissed him softly on the cheek.  
"Thanks for asking me out."

Harry smiled sheepishly.  
"You're welcome, sorry for not being a better date."

Minerva shrugged.  
"It was no worse than I was expecting. Truly you made an attentive try."

Harry was at a loss.  
"Huh?" he managed.

Minerva rolled her eyes.  
"You wanted to show Riddle that you don't care. You managed."

Harry blanched, but then remembered that, in the last year, they started calling them a couple and here as well, if a bit more discreetly.  
"That doesn't explain why you accepted though." he pointed out.

"No it doesn't." she smiled grimly, looking ready to leave it there, but Harry's sharp look made her continue. "I'm a member of a pure blooded, but not exactly prosperous family; there is not a marriage contrast for me or even prospects. What did I have to lose?" she told him matter of factly. "You also saved my life yesterday, I owe you a life debt, I needed to help you out and I wanted to get to know you. When everyone else fled yesterday, at Hogsmeade, you stood to fight, successfully so. More, Riddle and Co. fought by your side."

Harry bit his tongue to ward the strange impulse to confess that Tom didn't exactly have a choice. Instead he got with a very sedated:  
"They are my friends."

Minerva's smile grew.  
"Aye, that he is, but while I doubt that Albus is right and he is devil's spawn, Riddle's not the type to give water to someone that dies from thirst if there nothing for him to gain."

In a single moment all the geniality in Harry's face was gone, Minerva found herself with a wand at her throat. Harry hadn't missed that she called Dumbledore 'Albus'.  
"I repeat, what do you want to gain from me Minerva? Are you spying for Dumbledore or maybe someone else?" Harry questioned.   
_God!_  He felt like a fool.

 _Tom was right,_ he was too trusting.

He had no doubt on what was all about. Yesterday, he and Tom had pretty much levelled the field of battle. It was quite natural for Dumbledore to want to learn more about the weaker of the Slytherin Duo. The question was what to let go back to the old goat.

McGonagall shrank back in terror with his wand so near to her face. She looked so ridiculously young that Harry felt a pang of regret.  
None of that was shown in his face though.

"No one asked me to watch, or report you, certainly not Albus and no one else either... truly," she looked in Harry's eyes and, blushing heavily, confessed.  
"It was my idea, I wanted to impress him." she gulped, "I Minerva Helena McGonagall swear this on my magic. So mote it be."

Harry relaxed a bit. This was simply the attempt of a smart girl with a crush to try and win her intended but it didn't mean that Dumbledore hadn't before hand influenced her decision. He didn't lower his wand.

After a moment Minerva started talking again.  
"I was curious, Leonard Potter confessed that he owes you a life debt as well," Harry winced. That was a right mess and quite a bit of impressive magic from Tom to fix it, he was grateful, he was quite attached to his Evans identify.

Minerva noticed and her expression softened.  
"Yesterday it was obvious that you know a great deal in Dark Arts, Godric, didn't you! And yet you were saving people left and right. You follow Riddle, yet yesterday, Riddle followed you. What are you?" her voice held an awed caution and Harry felt the irresistible need to give her something.

"I Harrison James Evans Potter swear on my Magic that neither I, nor Tom Marvolo Riddle, or our true associates, are in any way or form allied to, or following, the Dark Lord Grindelwald. So mote it be"

Minerva looked more confused than ever.  
"You are a Potter, but how? Are you a natural son to Charlus Potter?"

Harry was losing patience fast. He had made a worse mess than before, maybe he should obliviate her? He hated the mere idea but he didn't see another way.

Something in his eyes alerted Minerva to his intentions.  
"Wait." she raised a desperate wanded hand. "I Minerva McGonagall swear it on my magic to keep everything that Harrison James Evans Potter tells me, or already told me, between us, except if he asks me to tell, or someone already knows. So mote it be."

"Thank you." Harry told her with real gratitude.

The atmosphere between them became warm, like before, only more genuine this tine. Their smiles were very real.

Minerva's smile was very cattish, though.  
"Someday I'm going to learn all your secrets."

Harry rubbed his eyes.  
"Maybe, but no more secrets for tonight though, I'm tired."

Minerva honest to God pouted.  
"Spoilsport, sneaky, Slytherin!"

"Nosy Gryffindor!"

They said their goodnights and Harry left her feeling, much, much better. No matter what life threw at him if he had friends like that he could handle it.

* * *

  **~*~**  

* * *

_**Hermione's pov** _

They returned to their room debating heavily but as Hermione was telling him goodnight Tom smiled strangely and told her:  
"I believe the traditional end to a date is something like that, no?" and before Hermione could manage to draw breath, never mind answer, he covered her lips with his own.

Hermione lost her mind.

She didn't knew if they were kissing for seconds, minutes, or hours, but this felt too fast, too good, too sudden, for Hermione to be completely able to let go. Her mind started trying to think; it didn't help to that endeavour that Tom's kisses were completely amazing, mind blowing, skilled. For someone as, seemly, inexperienced as Harry, his kisses were simply out of this world.

_Harry!_

The last thought managed to sink through. Hermione's mind flashed to his brave smile and his sad, sad, eyes looking at anything but Tom. Abruptly Hermione was unable to go through with whatever the hell she was doing.  
'Harry.' she spelled her friend's name in her mind and pushed Tom away.

It wasn't enough to force him away; they only parted a few inches, his hands still holding her by the upper arms.  
"What's wrong Hermione? I thought that you wanted this too?" Tom sounded concerned but his breathing wasn't affected in the slightest.  _'Bastard!'_

"Harry!" she repeated almost forcefully. Then she saw it. For the fraction of a second something broke in Tom's eyes, his hands fell from her arms like they were made from lead. Suddenly Hermione was sure, as never in her life, and knew exactly what she had to do.  
"I won't do that to him, I can't."

But the moment of weakness was gone.  
"Really Hermione, if you feel that way I suggest to say it at Harry not to me, if you leave now you may be in time for the end of his date with McGonagall."

Hermione had, so, no time, or patience, for mind games.  
"Harry is in love with you and I won't hurt him like that." she told him bluntly.

If she had expected a reaction she would had been disappointed. Riddle barely raised an eyebrow.  
"And you discovered that now, after three years almost? Remarkable!"

Hermione flushed to the tips of her ears. Due to anger or embarrassment, she wasn't completely sure which.  
"I had my suspicions, of course, but Harry swore recently to me that he sees you only as family. I chose to believe my friend." she defended herself furiously.

Riddle tilted his head and examined her critically. Not in his customary way, like a predator to his meal, but something far more clinical, like a scientist in his microscope. Somehow this was far, far, worse. Hermione shivered uncontrollably.  
Still, his voice sounded almost sweet.

"Really, Hermione, and you believed him! Sweet, self sacrificing, Harry, who would have done anything for you," his tone sharpened like a whip."I don't think so. You chose to believe him out of convenience and the selfish wish to promote yourself. But you didn't even have the guts to go forth with the scheme and you exposed him to cover yourself. You are not even half the friend you pretend to be."

Hermione felt her eyes tearing up.  _Tom was right!  
_ Not at everything, of course, but she had been selfish. She had been so caught up with her crush on Tom that she didn't put but the minimally concept for Harry's feelings, except being a bit embarrassed at the close friendship the guys shared, Harry and Ron's friendship hadn't been anywhere near intimate as this.

But now she had awoken and was going to put things right.  
"Maybe I had been an egotistic prat, but no more. Harry loves you and so do you. Stop playing stupid power games and go make things right."

Tom's eyes flashed in lethal rage but then his lips moved in that small, infuriating smirk, of his.  
"I know that it will come quite as a shook to you, but Harry and I see each other only as family. Not that he will appreciate your tries at implicating him."

Hermione couldn't help herself, the rude word slipped from her lips; after all it was the only one fit to such a declaration.  
"Bullshit!"

There was no warning.  
Abruptly Hermione's airway was cut and she floundered, trying to draw a breath that didn't exist, but only for a moment.  
Something like pain crossed Tom's features and she was freed.

"Don't. Presume. To. Know. How. My. Friendship. With. Harry. Works." Riddle told her, insinuating every single word. He turned his back clearly dismissing her.

"Leave my sight."

Hermione wasn't daunted, largely, because she wasn't in the floor, screaming, under some horrible curse and even alive for that matter. It was only now crossing her mind that she had pushed Tom well beyond endurance and had almost got away with it. From everything she had observed of the man it shouldn't have been possible. Her intellectual curiosity rose. She coughed a few times and tried to speak.

"I'm alive, why am alive?"

Tom glared murderously.  
"I was feeling generous. Now...Leave."

Hermione shuddered in sheer terror under his deadly stare but she stayed where she was. Everything was telling her she needed to hear this.

The glare intensified, a hundred times more, but then, miracle of miracles, Tom started talking.  
"You are alive and unhurt because Harry, the friend you were ready to discard, paid for your life and safety with oaths of devotion."

"No!"

Hermione bit her lips furiously trying to hold back her tears. She wasn't really surprised by that, yet, it still hurt like a razor. Harry was protecting her with all his might, like always, and she had tried to take away from him the only thing he had left, no matter what Tom was saying.

* * *

  **~*~**  

* * *

_**Tom's pov** _

Riddle watched her for a few moments with mute satisfaction. If there was a thing he hated above all others it was disloyalty and the mudborn was beyond indebted to Harry. If she had the slightest common sense she would have long ago recognised Harry for her Lord, never mind dare to approach something he wanted...and that gall of hers, to keep staking her nose in the only thing, truly personal, of his.

 _Not that Harry wanted him_.

Tom had spent enough time in his friend's mind to be almost certain for that and if there were some lingering doubts due to Harry's increasing occlumency shields this was not the time nor place to ponder them.

The silent crying continued, Tom grew bored.  
_Why again had he thought of sharing his bed with that creature? Obviously not his best idea! Harry didn't cry; he did something to fix the problem. Maybe he should give her something real to cry for, or even better, do something useful; so she wouldn't be such a waste of space?_

Now that she had acknowledged that something was wrong with Harry it wouldn't take her long to figure things out. Tom could grudgingly admit that his Light magic knowledge was lacking compared to hers and he needed everything he could find, time was running out.

"Granger?" he tried to get her attention, nothing. Losing all patience he grabbed her by the shoulder and threw her in the nearest chair. Hermione just looked at him, completely bewildered. Crossing his arms he smiled pleasantly.

"Have you finished with that nonsense?" the girl had the smarts to be scared and simply nodded once.  
"Good, now that you are all here, have you put any true thought on Harry's problems and why is he so miserable?"

* * *

  **~*~**  

* * *

_**Hermione's pov** _

This was not the thing that Hermione expected to hear, her brown eyes rounded in surprise, and she started thinking furiously.  
"He is more reserved," she started hesitantly. "He laughs less, is angered more easily... he's gotten thinner, he is not eating that well." she told the symptoms she had thought as proof of him being love stricken.

"And...? You missed the most telling sign... and you were witness, a pity." Tom bent slightly forward, looming threatening above her, his violet eyes glinting intensely. He had never looked more dangerous to her, but for once he wasn't affecting her.

Her best friend, her brother, was in serious trouble and she had the feeling that what she had seen was only the tip of the iceberg.  
She searched feverishly for the missing link.

When she found it, it was glaringly obvious. Hermione bit her lips not to scream.  
"Harry is the last person to go for bloody revenge... Has he gone psychotic?" she whispered fearfully at least.

Hermione recalled the wild light in his eyes as he had hurt Lestrange for hurting her. She had told herself that it happened only because Riddle was edging him... _But...oh...Her sweet Harry..._

"I can see that you finally understand." Tom was sounding strangely quiet.

It was the final straw for Hermione.  
"What have you done to him, you creep?" she screeched.

Tom smiled a strange smile. But if Hermione wasn't sure that she was going crazy she could swear that he looked remorseful.

"What I did..." Tom whispered, Hermione had to strain herself to hear him.  
"If I hadn't forced Harry to make a horcrux he wouldn't be teetering now between madness and death... ."

He started pacing.

"...but, by my calculations, mental unbalance shouldn't have been an issue. Voldemort was what he was because he had seven, more so, I'm a clinical psychopath... Harry was healthy."

Hermione had a feeling that Tom had completely forgotten her presence now and was just talking aloud, still trying to come in terms with the problem himself.

Everything in Hermione wanted to deny how much sense the heir's words were making. Harry was too strong to let himself fade like that. Tom cared deeply about Harry, yes, she had seen too much, to ever doubt that again, yet, she had never seen him more uncharacteristically human than tonight.

_There was something fishy here._

She spoke without thinking.  
"Are you sure that is such an inconvenience to you, I mean, wasn't that what you always wanted, a Harry without scruples?"

Tom focused on her again and Hermione wished she was under the earth. He didn't have to do anything to her; he didn't have to hurt her, or even use magic, she was paralysed with fear. A basilisk had nothing on him.

"I want you dead, you should be dead." he told her simply, without inflection.  
"Harry is unconsciously fighting his horcrux to correct the mental imbalance but if he succeeds to remove it, he will die, as its his only anchor to this world." he explained patiently.

She couldn't help but close her eyes tightly.  _Harry was really dying!_    
Somehow, this was not a trick, there was not mistaking that tone. He was frightened too, and if it scared Him where was the hope?  
"How long did you know?" she asked trying to keep the pain at by and get some measure.

"I had my suspicions ever since the Lestrange incident but I only confirmed them yesterday in battle" Tom admitted and Hermione felt her world turning dark.

A sharp slap brought her to the present.  
"Focus Granger, I didn't tell you to start falling apart, but to help me. Harry is far from dead yet."

Hermione steeled herself and her voice came out steady.  
"How can I help?"

"I need you to start researching everything in light magic elements to counter the madness, or something to keep him alive so we'll remove the horcrux. Don't bother with dark, I'll do it, but I doubt that I can find something dark that would work alone, or even that Harry could accept it."

Hermione gaped. What kind of research had he undergone in a day to be that certain? It wasn't in Tom's nature to be lax. The question left her lips before she could control it.  
"Why won't they work?"

Strangely enough her question grounded Tom and he started explaining in a surprisingly patient, lecturing, tone.  
"I already crossed out, unicorn blood, even willingly given..."

Hermione was hearing with dawning horror as Tom described to her atrocious practise after atrocious practise, that even with her reading she had only caught vague hints of them in the books, and the various reasons that they wouldn't work on Harry, all without the slightest allusion of hesitation.

She was assaulted again with the realisation that there was absolutely nothing in the world that Tom was going to stop at, to keep Harry healthy and with him. Hermione didn't knew if she should be envious or petrified. She should have known. Tom had already destroyed her world to keep Harry with him. But it frankly hadn't sunk in, in a visceral way, to her before now. She had a feeling that she was going to pay dearly for being witness in this...

Suddenly a thought crossed her mind.  _Why on earth hadn't Tom thought of it?  
_ "The Philosopher's Stone! Wouldn't that philtre be enough to restore him to health and keep him alive as he absorbed the horcrux?"

Tom's face was a study in frustrated disappointment.  
"My first thought. It would have been ideal. Unfortunately Flamel's house is unplottable. His only contact to the wizarding world is Dumbledore. And. I. Can't. Legimens. Him." he spat the last part.

Hermione tried again.  
"What about Minerva?" she all but pleaded. "As his apprentice it's not impossible for her to know." she pointed hopefully.

Tom shook his head.  
"Already checked, she doesn't know a thing."

But Hermione was like a dog with a bone and wasn't ready to give up on that hope.  
"However it is possible that she could find out right?" she held her hand to stop Tom from speaking; "She seemed fond of Harry. This is only going to grow with time. We could tell her some of the truth, in a few weeks, and she will find out for us."

Tom's expression darkened.  
"The old man keeps things very close to his vest. It could work, but it could also take years. We'll don't have that much time. I'd had her Imperiused if I believed it was worth it."

"Why?" she asked not liking this at all.

"Think Granger," Tom was visibly grinding his teeth. "Harry is rapidly affected. It's barely two months between episodes, how long do you think he has before he breaks and kill someone he cares about?"

Hermione had to gulp the lump in her throat but she managed to counter him.  
"Harry is a fighter; he managed to contain the problem up to the start of term. He is going to do so again..."

"Don't you think I know that?" Tom gritted out, nine parts irritation and one relief. "Alright, we can try your way. If Minerva refuses I'll try Imperio..."

Hermione let out a sigh of relief.

Some of Tom's tenseness left.  
"That was almost Slytherin reasoning from you Hermione!" he praised her.

That was a huge compliment and Hermione felt the crushing part of her heart swelling in her chest.

"...But we'll not stop researching until Harry is holding the Stone."

She barely resisted rolling her eyes to him.  
_Who he's been taken her for? Better leave him at Harry to deal with._

Instead she followed the caution lane and simply nodded.  
"I will talk to Harry about this tomorrow."

"Out of the question."

That was so abrupt that Hermione was dumbfounded.  
"But he must be already aware of the problem, at least to some extent?"

"I know, but we'll still not say a thing without the solution at hand."

"You don't trust him?" the question slipped past her lips. The second she opened her mouth she regretted it. This was Tom, Future Dark Lord,  _duh!_

But his answer made her want to rub her eyes.  
"Implicitly, in everything but his safety."

Hermione's face softened.  
"He wouldn't do something like that to you..."

Tom's face darkened. He didn't even have to issue a warning.

But she had to make her point...  
"You didn't see his face that first day, he was so relieved to be here and he hated himself for it. If Harry was to end it he would have done so, then. He knows how the damn things work as good as you."

Tom shrugged in a non committal manner.  
"Even so, I would prefer not to give him the option to fight me." he purposely-accidentally flashed her, his wand, as he sat at his desk, and Hermione got the message. It was going to be at his terms or she was going to part with the memories.

Hermione nodded reluctantly, turning for her room.  
"Alright, I'll keep it for now."

"And Hermione..." she turned to face him again,  
"As far as everyone is going to know we are going to spend all our free time together because you are my girlfriend."

She was astonished.  
"What for?"

Tom had the nerve to roll his eyes to her.  
"Harry is too good at deducing I would rather not have him question."

Now Hermione was rather exasperated.  
"Oh, for God's sake, you two and your games! You know, if you only told Harry how you feel we wouldn't have to worry about his depression and we'll have all the time in the world to fix him."

Tom looked at her strangely.  
"It will come as surprise to you Granger but Harry already knows."

She couldn't help her snort of derision.  
"Yeah right!"

Tom smiled unpleasantly.  
"Harry is more to me than friend or family, I will grant you that, and while it's none of your business, I'm not really interested in sex so it's a non issue."

Hermione felt her mouth hanging open. This was the last thing she expected to hear. She couldn't hold back the offended question.  
"Then what were you doing with me?"

Tom shrugged again.  
"If I was ever going to continue the Slytherin line I'll need a woman."

"But I'm a muggleborn?" she whispered weakly.

Tom sent her a mild glare for reminding him.  
"Regrettably so, but at least you have a modicum of intelligence."

The second huge shook instead of finishing her off only made her intelligence to really kick in.  
Regardless if he means it or not the only reason for Tom to tell her that was diversion.

"Thank you!" she answered, beyond flattered, even if it was just that. Then a little devil and the memory of Harry's pained eyes had her adding.  
"Maybe you should reconsider your priorities about Harry, Tom... ."

Ignoring his white as sheet face and the deathly stare she bravely continued.  
"...Think about it, you didn't like it when Harry brought Minerva tonight, did you? What if it's serious, or he meets another girl, or even a guy?"

Tom's eyes flashed red, honest to god red!  
"Get out." he hissed, a step only above parseltongue. Hermione's blood turned to ice and she started running with all her strength.

Harry had warned her, once, that at very extreme anger it was bound to happen, that it was also a Tom thing not only Voldemort.  
But it was one thing to hear, quite another to see.

She had opened her door when Tom's cold voice stopped her.  
"Granger." His power compelled her to look at him, "I don't need to curse you to oblivion to make your life a living hell."

Hermione nodded once and hurried behind her door.  
_Message received._  She sat on her bed hugging tightly her pillow as she heard him obliterate their common room to bits, but for her every wince in every loud crash there was also and a very satisfied secret smile on her lips.   
_Mission successful!_

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS Edited at 10/07/2014  
> Please review to inspire me for more...


	2. More Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A random malicious act from Walburga Black will complicate things even more.

 

**Chapter Two: More Problems**

_ **Tom's pov** _

Tom sat down, wishing for some wine to dull a tad the throbbing in his veins. Thankfully he had none. _It wouldn't do to impede his judgement even more._ Trashing the room and putting it back together had barely taken the edge off from his rage but it hadn't calmed him. To calm down he needed either a long training session –preferably sparring against Harry– or to finally put the object of his frustrations in her place.

Believing, and insisting on, that if Harry was aware of his condition he could simply cooperate with him and allow him to save him. _How naive!_ Tom was positive that if Harry was really aware that his condition could be compared to a muggle bomb, and that if he snapped he could take Merlin knows how many people with him, he would gladly choose death over risking waiting for a cure.

It wasn't a weakness, it was pure strength. It was his friend's incredible will, his denial to compromise in anything, least of all in himself. Tom could respect that. But respect and acceptance were two completely different matters and so he was going to keep his silence for as long as it was needed. Granger was disagreeing of course, and was basing said disagreement, in some romantic nonsense.

 _Women!_ What did she take Harry for, _a sheep?_ Had she forgotten his iron will?  
And she was supposed to be his friend, the closest after himself.

_Salazar, how he hated that woman!_

He wouldn't loathe her so much if she didn't insist so much on her opinion, and if said opinion wasn't so obviously, glaringly, wrong. The mere fact that he was unable to lift a finger and shut her up was proof enough. If Harry, except his deep friendship, held even a modicum of romantic feelings for him as well, he would have started resenting Granger for presumably taking the first place in what he supposedly had for heart.

Tom's careful testing had shown that Harry's degrees of affection influenced the binding to his oath. It was near impossible to harshly punish his closer followers; he couldn't lift a finger to Granger but, unfortunately for everyone else not close enough it mattered only if they were in danger. He had a bad feeling that Minerva McGonagall was going to end up in the first group.

He had attacked the mudborn intentionally just once and he had come one step away from losing his magic, his oath protecting her like an unconquerable shield. Still Harry's closest friend, was following him, after all.

Not that Granger understood the complexity of his and Harry's relationship. For her there were only two categories friends and lovers and, as he and Harry had exceeded friends, it was to become lovers. _Silly girl!_ For him and Harry being lovers was left so far behind that there wasn't even a comparison.

As a first year at Hogwarts he had found a book, 'The Epoch of Gilgamesh,' that had both intrigued him because it referred to a quest for immortality and disgusted him because its sentimentality. But fate had a weird sense of humour because she had sent him his own Enkidu. _'A stormy heart for his stormy heart.'_

Harry was the exception to his every rule! Tom had fumed for a long time but finally he had accepted it in its complexity. He was family, confidant, stabilizer, adversary, equal, the other half of his soul (and it had next to nothing to do with the horcrux) his eternal challenge and the only person that had seen him fully in weakness and strength and instead of running to the hills had stayed, in the end, willingly at his side, a choice that had nothing to do with power and everything to do with their special bond.

He was never going to be his servant. When he followed, Tom had to win him over and yet even then he did it by his own choice. But what a power rush it was every time he managed to win over Harry. Nothing could ever compare to that!

He brought colour in his life. Before Harry his life had been a smoggy grey lighted persistently by the silver of his ambitions and the occasional rusty red of violence. The half lion/half snake had offered him warm yellows, vibrant reds and oranges and soothing greens. Tom was going to be damned if he ever let him go.

Not that it was easy to coexist – they had both drawn their lines in the sand. Tom couldn't bear to not rule, Harry couldn't stand to not protect lives. It was in their nature and near impossible to reconcile, but they were both fighting with everything in them to keep what they had.

Tom's will wasn't in any way, shape, or form lesser than Harry's and he refused to debase himself and, instead of reaching his potential, become something repulsive like Voldemort.

_The abomination!_

Ruining a perfectly good name! Tom hadn't regretted killing him in the slightest; instead a fierce satisfaction coursed his body every time he remembered it. The bastard had forced him to hurt Harry; it was his choice and only his when and how much he did that. Snake remnants' had ruined it for him. These days it bothered him to hurt Harry even when he had to prove a point. Not that it stopped him...

_...And Granger considered that being lovers could be a solution._

Tom scoffed. _How short sighted!_ After all Harry was already his weakness and while he could admit that inexplicably he had also ended up his strength, he couldn't afford to open himself up more. Harry already had more power over him that it was logically healthy.   
What they already had was more than enough to hold them for lifetimes, not a mere single one. Tom didn't need or even want more.

Not that the thought had never been there before – Harry was attractive in his own untameable way and he was almost the only person that the thought of satisfying those urges with wasn't revolting to him. Thankfully, those kinds of desires were affecting him even less than his craving for chocolate, so it was quite rare.  
Unfortunately, almost every time it happened, he was either sparring with Harry, or Harry was challenging him in some way.

Tom had pondered the possibility that maybe the positives of sexual intimacy with Harry could exceed the negatives. Harry was beyond loyal so if Tom set upon himself the task of fulfilling his physical needs, except most of the emotional, then it was a foregone conclusion that his friend was going to stay with him to the end of days without anyone and anything coming between them.

Regrettably, the point was moot. Up to the latest time he had been in Harry's mind, about eight months ago, his friend couldn't contemplate the possibility, even in jest. He wasn't scared, or repulsed, he simply, pointedly, ignored any and all comments to the matter.

He did that with such dedication that Tom had started to fear that he had been assaulted as a kid and repressed it. If that had been the case, it wouldn't have mattered if Harry begged on his knees; Tom would have cut his fat walrus of uncle in tiny ribbons, like he had taken care of those who had tried to take advance of him as a child.

Thankfully it wasn't the case but, as with many things, it left him wondering at Harry's unique reaction. The emotional intimacy was there, Harry admitted it, even in the privacy of his mind, that he found him handsome, the only thing missing was the connection of the two. Harry remained stubbornly a step shy away from it.

Tom had, briefly, considered pressing the point. It could have been the simplest thing in the world to exploit an infrequent moment of weakness that Harry had from time to time and, if the reaction was completely unfavourable, he could always find a way to obliviate him after. He decided to not do it.

But not due any moral ground.  
No, Tom deemed himself above those, and not out of friendship, if Harry was vulnerable he was also fair game most of the time and he knew it.

No, the main reason that Tom held back was that the odds were mostly on an unfavourable reaction and Harry would never forgive a second obliviate, even if he could forgive him making a serious pass at him. He would gather his things and leave for Beirut, or Mexico, or anywhere where it would take Tom years to find him, if ever...

Everything concluded that there wasn't anything stupider than trying to pursue something more than their close friendship. Yet everything in Tom burned to claim what was his. _Damn Granger for opening that specific can of worms!_

He had used all his will power to not react, even more violently, at seeing Harry dating Minerva, the mere thought of any other person touching his most precious of possessions was bearing forth such rage that even Tom was unaware that he possessed, and that was saying something.

Tom forced himself to calm somewhat down. If he continued into that vein Harry was bound to notice and come to investigate, for all the heavy occlumency barriers they were both under. It was a miracle that his outburst had gone undetected the first time.

It wasn't even like if he could ever touch him it would be enough. Tom wanted to own Harry's every breath, not merely his body.  
_As if that was ever going to happen_...

A wry smile touched Tom's lips. _For them to touch any of their thousand issues Harry should live first._ The night had hours yet.

Tom opened the next grimoire.

* * *

  **~*~**  

* * *

_ **Harry's pov** _

Harry left the dorm, at the earliest possible moment, trying to look normal. Truthfully his head was killing him and he desperately wished for coffee to ease the pounding. The logical thing would have been to go to the hospital wing, but he refused to do so, he'd had much, much worse over the years and this wasn't even a hangover.

He had awoken quietly at three in the morning because of an undefined dream, (for once), and had been unable to sleep again. He hadn't left the dorm for the common room because he, honestly, wasn't sure where his feet would have led him. Instead, he spent the night in his bed, thinking. Tom had been right, he had screwed up. Not by saving lives, never this. The only thing truly damaged was the stupid plan.

A fact that Harry wasn't quite regretting... its outcome was maybe essential for their safety, but, perhaps it was the Gryffindor in him, he wasn't completely alright with the way there...  
...Never mind, the real problem was that with the same way he saved the students he also painted a nice red target on the school, like if Dumbledore wasn't enough? Something needed to be done about that...

So he had plotted for half the night and as he walked to breakfast he was resolute that he was going to make Tom help with his plans at any cost. But as he reached the great hall Harry got quite the surprise.  
Tom and Hermione were already there...

For Tom it was quite normal but Mione, while a morning person, wasn't it to this extent. No, the big surprise wasn't that but the seating arrangement. Usually, when Hermione sat at the Slytherin table, (most of the time) she sat at his right, or across him, and that hadn't changed even after Tom started courting her. Today she sat at Tom's left.

That was more than significant. But, as Harry examined them, in that speck of time, they looked more like colleagues than lovers. Then Tom kissed her palm and the illusion was shattered.

Harry held back a sigh and forcing himself a smile of fake cheerfulness he sat beside Tom.  
“Morning guys.”

Tom took a look at him and wordlessly offered him coffee. Harry drank and sighed in contentment as the throbbing in his head slowed somewhat.

Tom smirked.  
“Hangover?”

Harry opened his mouth to differ, but then he thought better, _less hassle,_ and simply nodded.

“Harry you shouldn't have drank that much...” Hermione scolded. Both men ignored her.

“How did you know?” he questioned, a bit grumpy – he was keeping the link completely closed and had strong glamours in place.

Tom smiled, beatifically, and started counting on his fingers.  
“Your eyes are tense at the corners, and you are awake at five thirty on a Sunday. Should I continue?” he asked pointedly making it quite clear that he was aware of the glamours.

Harry growled. _Why should Tom be in such high spirits so damn early?_  
“None of your business.”

Tom sent him a curious glance, but he didn't seem to take offence at Harry's blatant disregard.  
“Tut tut, that must be quite the headache!” Tom's mocking lacked bite.

 _Someone was in a rare form today.  
_ “Stuff it Tom.” he told his friend tiredly.

Twin points of laser examined his face.  
“Only stuff it? That was original, darling, you really must be close to sick.”

Harry felt the absolute euphoria of having Tom focusing his complete attention on him after so long sharing it with Mione and terrible guilt for ignoring her so far.

The guilt won, but just barely. Harry shrugged.  
“I will ask Zev for a hangover potion.” he looked at Hermione and smiled sheepishly.

Hermione looked ready for a long rant but Tom put his hand on her shoulder and told her mildly:  
“Leave him be.” it was an order, not even a disguised one, yet Mione blushed prettily and shook her head with fond exasperation.

“Oh Harry!” she sternly said, but her eyes were dancing, she wasn't annoyed.

Harry was puzzled, Hermione wasn't one to accept orders from anyone, except maybe teachers she really respected, not Tom. There was something strange here, he was sure. Yet he was, also, off the hook, at least for now. Or he thought so...

Abruptly Tom leaned towards him and whispered, which was way overboard as he was speaking parseltongue.  
**“** **Is it truly hangover, Harry, or did I wake you up last night?”**

_What the hell?_

Harry tried, at lightning speed, to figure out Tom's game. He certainly hadn't hurt Mione the previous night; Harry would have felt that, but there was a link there, of that he was sure. Suddenly, thanks to their close proximity, it was impossible to ignore that Tom was under similar glamours as his own. Discreetly he checked Mione, the same.

_Damn Tom and his games to hell and back!_

Harry fought with everything he had to not blush as he recalled parts of his dream. He refused to be cornered on such personal matters; he didn't even have the excuse of being drunk.

He barely managed to meet Tom's glittering eyes square on.  
It was impossible to fool Tom with falsehoods so Harry offered his friend the truth.  
_'It was bloody uncomfortable to know such things for his friends and he would have preferred to be anywhere but here.'_

He conveyed those with a single look and concluded:  
**“I thought that you, of all guys, would have more class than start boasting a conquest. What's wrong, feeling insecure, Tom?”**

Just as he expected Tom's eyes narrowed in anger.  
**“I didn't do such a thing,”** he stated with complete dignity. **“I was merely concerned as I felt your presence last night and I was wondering if it was going to be a recurring thing.”**

The edges of his mouth twitched and Harry realised that Tom was having the time of his life at his expense.

Harry wasn't going to touch that even with a ten foot pole. He fell back on humour instead.  
**“Yeah right, Tommy-boy, tell yourself that.”**

He expected some cutting comment in return, but Tom made a complete turn that left Harry with his mouth hanging open.  
**“This stops here, we are making Hermione uncomfortable.”**

Harry was ready to tell Tom that it was lame but then he checked Mione. She looked indeed very uncomfortable.  
This brought things home more than anything. Tom was completely serious. Normally Tom couldn't care less for whatever any other person was feeling, maybe once in while he cared about Harry's but even that was rare.

This was different though. Tom stopping one of their games for her comfort. Harry had to try his damnest to avoid resenting her even a little. It was bloody hard to do so, already, knowing that they were sexually intimate. He could only do that because he had been prepared. Zevi's assurance, that Tom was straight; such a comfort back then, seemed such a heavy thing now.

It was going to be near impossible to not hate her, a little bit, if she started interfering with their friendship.

Harry refused to do so though, Hermione was the only one, from his oldest friends, remaining. To hate her, even a little, would be like hating himself. He couldn't bear to get more empty than he already was. After all, in a few months time, their relationship was only going to be background to him, it wouldn't bother him. He was a Slytherin, he was going to adapt.

Also, the whole scene smelled like Tom's plans. Harry, knowing Tom, wouldn't put it past him to try and split his and Mione's friendship so that they couldn't team up against him.

Speaking of paranoid Slytherins ... Tom's, too sharp, eyes were once again stabbing at him. Harry didn't feel that comfortable making those thoughts, so it was time to bring matters to more safe and constructive waters.  
“Truthfully guys, I had and another reason why I couldn't sleep yesterday, except the headache...”

Hermione put her spoon down and Tom raised an inquiring eyebrow.  
“Do tell.”

Harry took a deep breath, what he had to say wasn't exactly pleasant.  
“You were right, yesterday, Tom, I screwed up. Instead of working on evacuation I forced us to fight and they are going to return and put even more kids in danger. We must, do something about it.”

“Really darling,” Tom drawled, “I thought that you were above deferring to get what you want.” the words sounded even crueller with the almost sweet way he said them.

Harry's blood boiled. He got up.  
“I, unlike some people, can admit when I'm wrong.”

Tom rose too, looking predatory, anticipating.  
“I rather doubt it.” his voice was dripping with sarcasm and he looked like he would really love a challenge. Harry had half a mind to give him one.

“Stop, both of you.” Hermione's voice held a quiet authority and surprisingly even Tom took heed of it. Harry was involuntarily impressed.  
They sat down.  
“So, Harry, tell us what troubling you?” she asked calmly.

Harry gulped down a lump of anxiousness and started explaining to the best of his ability. This was too important to mess it up.  
“I was thinking about the students, while professor Merrythought teaches them better than any of our professors taught us, they are virtually defenceless against Grindelwald's followers, so...”

He didn't have time to finish his proposition before Tom had raised a warning hand.  
“Out of the question.”

“I think it's a wonderful idea!” Mione contradicted him. “I had thought of something similar for our year before you two sent Umbridge where she deserved...”

Tom looked like he was searching for patience.  
“You said it yourself, your year, wonder boy here wants to train the whole school.”

Harry shrugged.  
“Pretty much, yes, I believe it's important.”

“Tom?” Hermione tried again imploringly.

Tom sent Hermione a scathing glance, intimidating her into looking down. Harry lost some of his faith in the longevity of their relationship. Then he returned his attention at Harry smiling frostily.  
“No, if you find it that essential, you can do it yourself, if you have the time.”

“Excuse me,” Harry said with clenched teeth, “what do you mean if I have the time?”

He was the first to admit that the task was Huge, that was why he needed Tom and Hermione's help, but that didn't mean he wouldn't do it alone, or that was ready to accept Tom's cavalier attitude.

“Last tine I checked I could probably pass my NEWT's napping, imagine you or Hermione? The only constraint on your time is your Head Boy's rounds... so... what kinds of shit have you gotten yourself?”

“It doesn't concern you, its personal.” for the first time it looked like Harry had touched a nerve.

“Anything about you concerns me,” Harry smiled and knew it wasn't pleasant.  
“You made sure of it.” he didn't really care if was cutting their alone time...  
_T_ _hey shared a room for Salazar's sake!_

“I said no, why don't you ask your girlfriend Minerva?” Tom never sounded more venomous.

“I never thought about that, too close to Dumbledore. Maybe you're right, I'll ask. But it will be better if we all work together.”

“What do you plan teaching them?” this was the first sign of interest.

“Moderately strong light and dark defence, wherever their affinity and abilities lies, whatever will keep them safe.”

“The numbers are too high; Dumbledore is going to find out. I was planning to stay out of his radar this year.”

“I know, but I believe that we can pull it off. If we can't hide it from him we are not worthy to be named Slytherins...”

Tom's eyes flashed with the challenge and Harry knew that he almost had him.  
“...and I can't believe that you will pass such a chance.” he didn't need to elaborate.

“You're not going to drop it?” it was as close to acceptance as it was going to get.

“Never, it's too important.” Harry held back his smile. He was going to pay dearly for this, but it was so worth it.

“The price is going to be excruciating.” Tom was dead serious.

“I know, name your price.” Harry steadied himself.

Tom smiled brilliantly.  
“I want us to start training in the chamber every day. I don't care how much the Basilisk and the place unnerves you, we are going to do it. After all, I need compensation for giving up the 'Come and Go' room.” Harry nodded his acceptance. It was unpleasant but he could live with that. Tom continued.  
“There are going to be many things that are debatable, but what I want the most is your solemn oath that you are going to do exactly as I ask you at ten times of my choosing, or until I free you.”

Harry gulped.

This may sound innocent to the untrained ear but there wasn't anything worse than that. Tom was demanding he offer everything on a silver plate. The most terrifying thing: Harry had already agreed to help killing both Dumbledore and Grindelwald at their duel, what could have been so bad that Tom wasn't even mentioning it?

Seeing that Harry wasn't answering Tom pressed.  
“How much do you want it? The teachers are coming and I don't want to risk talking more about this here.”

Those were the words he said but, strangely enough, what Harry read in his eyes was _‘Trust me.’_ and it was to that he said...  
“I consent.”

Tom's eyes flashed to something that looked more relief than triumph but it passed too soon for Harry to be sure.  
“Good, you are going to swear on this as soon as breakfast is over.”

Harry's eyebrows rose.  
“Are we in a hurry?”

Tom smirked.  
“I thought you wanted it, did you changed your mind?”

Harry would have been alarmed if Tom's demands weren't normally that ruthless, as it was, he smirked too and was ready to tease back when the teachers started coming to the head table. Tom sneered discreetly and returned his attention at Hermione. Headmaster Dippet and Professor Slughorn were smiling proudly at them, while Dumbledore frowned, as if he was wondering what horrible thing they had gotten themselves into this time. Harry's relatively good mood fell again. But then Minerva flashed him a smile, as she sat beside Dumbledore, and Harry found his lips lifting as well. Maybe it wasn't going to be such a bad day after all.

Their friends started coming: Brax, looking half asleep, Zevi walking briskly, seeming almost worried, and Alphard, looking far too cheerful for six o'clock in the morning.

Almost everyone took the new arrangement at their stride. It was coming after all, only Zev had to stop for a furtive double take. Harry felt for him, but only partially. He had, after all, more than a whole year to decide that he liked Hermione enough to not care about her blood status and when he finally did Tom was already flirting with her and Zev was never going to compete against his Lord.

If Harry wanted to be honest and at this instant he really didn't, not even for Zev, it was a bit hypocritical from him, but it wasn't like he wouldn't stand at his friend's side, if the need arose, and at least no one was talking about it, as they thought his careful reactions to be those of a concerned brother.

_That part was brilliant!_

Zevi had convinced his father, a renowned scholar, to house them their first summer back in the past. Elijah Prince had been kind to them and was so impressed with Hermione's academic prowess that he had personally sponsored her at Hogwarts, knowing full well that by the unwritten pureblood code she will be either considered a natural daughter or an intended for his son.   
Slughorn had already, accidentally, called her Miss Prince, twice. Even without Tom's protection she was relatively safe.

A boisterous: “Hey Harry,” brought him out of his musings.  
His friends knew better than to bother him when he was that pensive but little Orion didn't knew him well enough yet to spot the danger, or paid that much attention to societal regulations, yet.

The second year had chosen him as his hero, for no other reasons except Quidditch, especially after he became the reserve seeker. Harry didn't mind; the kid was like an overexcited puppy, enthusiastic and sunny, and somehow he always managed to bring a smile at Harry's lips. So he let the kid prattle about the next match and started relaxing but his respite didn't last for very long. A blood-curling screech, close to a banshee's, disturbed the air. Everyone at the Slytherin table and even the others snapped their eyes to the spectacle in disbelief.

“Burga!” Alphard hissed, trying to calm his sister, to no result.

Walburga Black stood at the table's edge and seemed to be unaware of where she was and the commotion that she was creating.  
She was too busy glaring at Orion in incensed incredulity.  
“Orion Arcturus Black, how dare you shame our most ancient and noble name by accepting the protection of a rejected, filthy, half blood, if he is even that, and to top matters you are standing at attendance as if you were his servant!”

Harry was rendered, for the first time in his life, completely speechless. It wasn't that he was shocked that Walburga could chose to attack him; the woman held no love for him, but the means she chose were unpardonable. To insult him like that in front the whole school?

He heard, in a dream-like state, Orion replying to his cousin.

“Thank you for your concern dear cousin, unfortunately, for me, Evans hasn't bestowed me with such an honour and it would have been far easier for me to believe you if you hadn't soiled our name already by making such a spectacle of yourself.”

Yet the words didn't truly register, he was far too lost in himself.

It was much more than the simple insinuation that Tom had dumped him that was intolerable; no matter how much it galled him, the only damage from that was how many more people were going to believe that tripe.  
Harry could live with that.

What he found unbearable was that the bitch had outright said that he had touched Orion, a twelve year old, when he had done his damnest to stop this thing from happening to the younger years. It didn't matter if the teachers tolerated it, no kid should be taken advantage off like that. He had even conned Tom into helping him, conceding to things much faster than he should.

_Salazar, how he hated her!_

He felt his shock turning in red hot anger. _How dare she?_ Orion may have defended him, sort of, but many were going to believe her due to how widely accept her first allusion was. Harry felt his restrictions snap. He wanted her dead and for the first time in his life he felt no guilt whatsoever for admitting something like that.

He didn't reach for his wand; Harry had cast, so far, Avada Kedavra only once successfully. He didn't think he needed it. He and Tom had been training extensively in wandless magic for the past year or so, Tom being of course far more successful, but he himself wasn't bad. He could have been pure rubbish though and at that moment it wouldn't have mattered.

Harry felt that something was building inside him. He only needed to focus that power. He looked at Walburga's eyes and readied himself to release all his hate, all his anger. But then Sirius face passed behind his eyes. The power died within him. He couldn't do that to Sirius' mother. He wanted his godfather to have another chance at life even if he never got to know him again, and for that he had to be born.

Suddenly he realised what he had been ready to do and he wanted to be violently sick. All that hate, all that anger! At that moment he knew that if he had chosen to cast Cruciatus he would have succeeded. He had wanted to take her – a girl of his age – malicious though she was.

_What was he becoming?_

Without paying the slightest attention to the rest of the hall Harry got up. _He needed air, freedom, to think._ There was truly only one place he could really do that... 

* * *

 **~*~**  

* * *

_ **Tom's pov** _

There were only a few things that made Tom relieved to be finishing his formal magical education and leaving his home forever, (unless he found a way to get the defence post that's it) one was the restrictions upon his magic, the other seeing Dumbledore's face first thing in the morning, every day.

So he had been trying his best to avoid said unpleasant view and Black, the little pest, that the mad woman's screams caught him almost completely by surprise. He had expected some sort of revenge attempt for rejecting her charms but he would have never anticipated something so public. The woman lived for her name.

He wondered in a flash if she chosen Harry as a lesser victim instead of Hermione to avoid the brunt of his anger and he had to conclude that she knew precisely well what she was doing. Tom should have known particularly well what a mentally impaired person without moral code, or common sense whatsoever, was capable off – a mistake he wasn't going to repeat.

He focused his whole attention on Harry's face, watching every minuscule reaction carefully. Harry wasn't even aware of him. He saw the green eyes clouding with shock, indignation, hate and finally killing intent, he felt himself all those things... Tom didn't knew if he conveyed them himself, or if Harry was that affected by said emotions and was projecting.

What he did knew was that Harry was magnificent, breathtaking beautiful and that his magic was the most glorious thing in the world. Or it would have been if it wasn't utterly terrifying in its connotations. Everything was holding on a single hair. Tom prepared himself to take Harry's emotions into himself if Harry snapped.  
He wasn't much more mentally stable, but he had the advantage of being able to pretend pure calmness even under a psychotic break.

_Walburga was going to get what was coming to her, but not here and not now._

Then, miracle of miracles, Harry calmed down, even that far gone. He was indeed an exceptional fighter and Tom started to have actual optimism that they were going to beat the odds again, but it had been a close call.  
Then the sadness came, in a quantum so vast that Tom was almost unable to recognise the emotion. After all, almost all his experience with it was second hand through Harry.

Abruptly, Harry freed himself from the arm that Tom had unconsciously tightened around his waist to hold him in place and got on his feet.  
“I could never hurt your cousin, or any other kid, like that so you better stop spreading your poison around.” he said in a flawlessly composed voice. It was an emotion that Tom knew perfectly well that his friend didn't feel, and left the room with complete dignity.

Tom wanted to follow him with everything he had but it was impossible. Harry hadn't left the room less than few seconds before total chaos broke loose. Still, in the mental condition that Harry was in there was no way to say what he could do. So he sent Zevi instead. He could have used the Prince heir's level-headedness, but he really needed Alphard's assistance. If he didn't do some damage control, now, Harry was going to be expelled before the day was over.

“A hundred points from Slytherin for slandering a fellow student and creating commotion in the Great Hall,” he intoned in his most authoritative voice.

Walburga dared to meet his eyes only once with dark satisfaction, for all her lost points, and immediately lowered them, shivering in terror, as she saw her slow, torturous, death staring back. It wouldn't happen fast, there were going to be too many questions if another skrewt-eaten body was found in the forbidden forest this year and Harry was extremely fond of the mutt. He was going to allow her to give birth and then he was going to deal with her.

None of his housemates dared to complain about the excessive point loss. Not that they usually would, but everyone understood that at that moment everybody was on extremely thin ice with him. He checked the Head table, hoping that he had closed the matter. _No such luck._ The teachers looked grimly at each other. Now that the matter had been brought to them they had to deal with it.

_Hypocrites!_

Granger, Alphard, Abraxas and little Orion followed close behind him as he approached the Head table. Up close Dippet, the fool, only the little hair he had left wasn't pulling. Dumbledore looked grave, but his eyes were twinkling like mad, as he could hardly miss such a good chance to get rid one of the thorns in his side. Merrythought, _the hag,_ gazed around like she was falling from clouds to hear that such things could happen.

And Slughorn, the worst of all, was looking for a way to get away. Like he didn't knew perfectly well that Harry could never touch a little kid, or the role he had played to stop the practise. No, dearest Slughorn, was never going to voice his support for a halfblooded orphan against someone as aristocratic and wealthy as Walburga Black, no matter how talented or powerful, at least not without a incentive.

Only Minerva McGonagall seemed to have an honest reaction.  
Tom was going to need all his skills. 

* * *

 **~*~**  

* * *

_ **Minerva's pov** _

If someone, _anyone,_ dared to cross her, right now, she was going to blow up.  
_How dare they accuse Harry of such things?  
Were they blind, or idiots?_

Granted, she had only recently come to knew Harry a little better, but even before, she could have never believed that Harry would have touched a little kid to get off. And that Damned Albus! Every time, when she asked his help to stop that practice Albus told her: ‘They are just young men trying to sow their wild oats.’

Wild oats! Children of eleven, twelve and thirteen, like she would believe that! And he wanted to expel the only one that had decided to do something about it ... Minerva couldn’t figure out what he was thinking.

At least he had gotten exactly what he deserved, like Riddle was ever going to let him get away with that... and he wasn't even alone, the girl's brother and cousin had stood with him. A few years back she may have worried that their devotion to Riddle outshined that to their family, but now she knew better. Even that conceited git, Malfoy, had done his part, and the new Head Girl, Granger or Prince, she wasn't certain for some reason.

Albus had tried, of course, to point out that it was only his close friends that were protecting him. Minerva could bet that he regretted opening his mouth. Imogen Pierce had come forth then and Apollonius Lovegood, from Ravenclaw, Roger Watkins and Samuel Diggory, from Hufflepuff. Those and dozens underclassmen, that had been either protected by Harry, or Riddle, in some form.

But the cherry on top had come from Leonard! He had told the teachers:  
_‘_ _That if there was a male student that Harrison was interested about that was Riddle himself, not a little kid!’_

Both Riddle and Albus had almost gotten an apoplexy upon hearing this and Minerva had to bite her lips to not laugh. She had a feeling that this was going to make the round of the school before nightfall. Harry was going to hate it, but at least he was staying.  
When Minerva finally left, Riddle and Granger had things well at hand. She had a feeling that Harry could end up with an award, instead of getting expelled, thanks to Riddle.

Finally, she reached her destination. There was a lone dot flying around the Quidditch pitch. Minerva was almost certain of who it was. _But where the hell was Prince?_ She had been sure that he had followed Harry almost to the moment he had left.  
_Oh never mind that._

Minerva mounted her broom and followed her new friend to the sky. Up there it took her some minutes to catch up with Harry; he was flying far faster than she had ever seen before. _How the hell was he managing that?  
_ “What are you doing here Minerva?” there was genuine puzzlement in Harry's voice.

“I’m making sure that you are not alone and won’t do something stupid...” her voice came out harsher than she intended.

Harry shrugged carelessly.  
“You don't have to worry. As you can see I'm neither alone nor doing something stupid.” he pointed down where Prince was in the stands.

Minerva snorted indelicately.  
“You are up here; he is down there that hardly counts. As for doing something stupid, the way you fly alone can count as such.”

Harry's face hardened.  
“Don't worry, I'm used to flying like this and my friends know to leave me alone when I'm troubled.”

She snorted again.  
“Troubled would put it mildly after such an attack, and in that case what is he going down there?”

Harry smiled but it didn't reach his eyes.  
“Zev is a mother hen,” he told her in a voice that she could understand was intentionally light. “...And if it was something worse than an insult Tom or Herm would have been here to bug me.”

Minerva blanched.  
“You don't know then?”

Harry started looking worried.  
“Know what? Walburga Black accused me in front the whole school that I touched her baby cousin like many too rich and over hormonal upperclassmen do. What could be worse than that?”

Minerva bites her lower lip.  
“You used the word accuse. If something like that reach the ears of the parents or teachers the next step is the calling of aurors, snapping your wand and expulsion.”

Harry's hands convulsed around his broom's handle and turned white. Minerva read the question before he could ask.  
“The use of veritaserum is only administered with an order from the Wizengamot, it could have been your word against hers and as you are a halfblood without a family to speak for and she from an ancient and pureblood family the result could have been all but prewritten.”

Harry looked decidedly sick now.  
“I won't let them do it, no matter what, I won't.”  
At the last word the panic had receded and a veneer of calm resolution had covered every other visible thought.

 _And he would do it too and probably win..._ she shook her head to clear her thoughts but it was impossible to hide her admiration.  
“Never mind, you don't have to worry about anything of this. Your friend Tom, Granger, the Black boys and many others raised holy hell and forced the teachers to back off and Walburga to eat up her words, else I believe that he would have been here to stop you playing idiot.”

“They did?” he asked looking astonished and almost giddy with happiness for a second.

_What was wrong with this kid to be surprised about his friends’ devotion when he would throw himself on fire for them?_

But her distraction was enough for Harry to get himself together.  
“Why the hell did you scare me half to death then?” he asked more than angry.

Minerva felt guilty. She should have reassured him before telling him the rest.  
“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you like that, but you had to know.”

Harry sighed.  
“I understand.” some of his energy seemed to deflate. “But how on earth did they manage to stop this if it was that serious?”

Minerva laughed as she remembered.  
“Riddle had then all rounded inside a parchment, everything they tried to say he had a counter and many witnesses. Albus was most frustrated. But it was so worth it.”

Harry looked genuinely puzzled.  
“But I thought that you liked professor Dumbledore.”

“Harry!” Minerva all but shouted, blushing embarrassed.  
“I respect Professor Dumbledore very much, but that doesn't mean that I like him that way, or that I agree with his decisions in some things.”

“Of course not,” Harry nodded solemnly, “How could you like him that way when he is just shy of hundred and has such a terrible sweet addiction.”

Minerva found herself laughing helplessly.  
“You are a terrible, horrible person, no wonder Riddle likes you so much,” she regained her composure and couldn't help adding.

“He didn't let a single thing get by him; I hope to Merlin that my brother will never face him in the Wizengamot's courtroom.”

Harry nodded his agreement with a look of quiet pride.  
“He has a way with words. What's your brother doing?” he changed the topic but Minerva noticed that he didn't react in any way when she commented that Tom liked him as revenge to his own.

Still she couldn't contain her pride for her brother.  
“He is a Silveror!”

Harry looked at her at a complete loss.  
“What exactly does that mean? I never heard that term before.”

Minerva played it casually.  
“It is a rare profession; he represents people at the Wizengamot. Most pure-bloods that face trials prefer to stand for themselves and muggleborns are not given a choice.”

Harry was mumbling something, Minerva wasn't sure but she believed that it was something like:  
“Something must be done about that...”

“What did you say?” she asked a bit sharply.

“Lawyer, the muggle term is lawyer.” he smiled cheekily at her. _The brat!_ He knew perfectly well that she had heard but he was urging her to keep it between them.

She nodded her agreement.  
“Thank you.”

They stayed silent for a few moments concentrating on flying faster.  
“Minerva,” he asked during their third circling of the pitch, “What are the things that you disagree with Dumbledore?”

Minerva wanted to smile in triumph, she had passed a huge test.  
– She didn't. –  
It didn't matter on to how many things they had agreed on so far, or how disappointed she was growing with Albus, she had not yet seen positive proof that he was on the same page with her. Riddle remained a huge question mark and Harry was clearly devoted to his friend, or whatever.

She started cautiously.

“I don't like how Albus is either too lax or too strict with some students on the same matters; I hated it how he patted the guys from our House on the back, guys when they all but coerced younger kids, first and second years, and then, when there was a hint of scandal about you he was ready to expel you without a second thought.”

Harry smiled at her but his eyes were dead serious.  
“I appreciate that Minnie but is there anything more?”

Minerva bites her lips harshly. It wasn't enough, and for Harry to ask for more that meant that there was something big that needed trust. The question was did she trust Harry that much? Strangely enough the answer was yes.

She didn't beat around the bush.

“I hate how he always leaves to organise things at the ministry against Grindelwald. Some people have already started calling him the Light Lord yet he has done nothing to stop him. If he has the power to stop him he must stop stalling and do something, if he is not, his place is at the school protecting the students. He's certainly the most powerful among professors.”

Seeing that Harry was opening his mouth to speak she raised her hand. There was something else she wanted to say.  
“But my affinity is light and will always remain so.”

_There, now she had all her cards out in the open._

“My affinity is in both, as you have seen,” Harry answered her honesty with honesty.  
“Tom's affinity is dark but even an idiot can see that if one group gets suppressed that will only mean that it will be war again in a few years down the line and Tom is the remotest thing from an idiot.”

Minerva's eyes widened. This was far more than what she expected to hear and in many ways the confirmation of Albus' worst nightmares, yet, for her it was strangely comforting. These boys had a plan for the Wizarding world, yet, their solution was the most honest one, and the most easily dismissed. Could it really work? Walking always on the knife's edge? She wasn't sure, but she damn well wanted them to try.

Harry, oblivious to her revelation, continued on.  
“We have been worried about the attacks too and something must be done to help the kids.”

Minerva caught only the last part.  
“What are you talking about?”

Harry rolled his eyes.  
“Me, Tom and Mione decided to help the younger years by teaching them anything we can in defence. We could use your help.”

She was struck with the sheer effort that they were ready to offer.  
“Not a bad thought, but bloody difficult, I bet it was your idea.”

Harry looked bashful.  
“Why do you say that?”

“Riddle is hardly the person to go out a limb for others.” she simply pointed out.

Harry shrugged.  
“Maybe, but he is a bloody brilliant teacher!”

She was sceptical.  
“Really? I'm almost sure that he will make the younger years cry, as far as I have seen he is a worse taskmaster than me.”

Harry glared heatedly.  
“Don't be, he can be very patient, he taught me most things that I know.”

That was something she didn't expect, maybe she should revaluate Riddle.  
_– H_ _mmm better to start thinking of him as Tom._ –  
He called her Minerva since they were younger as an insinuation that he was her equal, or better, although younger and she kept calling him Riddle to keep the distance.

Here and now though, Harry was still glaring.

Instead of allowing herself to be scared she finally took her revenge for the liking Albus hit.  
“Do you have any idea how suggestive that sounded?”

Bingo! Harry blushed like a tomato and stammered.  
“W-what? I didn't mean it like that.”

Minerva smiled her cat smile, enjoying her victory. Not many could make the unflappable Harrison Evans _–_ _or was it Harry Potter_ – blush and stammer like that.  
“Alright I believe you, not that it would have mattered to me either way.”

Harry still wasn't happy.  
“Thanks, I suppose. Any time you will give me your answer, you keep stalling.”

She was surprised.  
“But I thought that it was obvious?”

“Well its not, you are Dumbledore's right-hand woman,” he told her bluntly.

“Am I?” she answered him not without some bitterness, “I must have missed it.” seeing that he kept looking at her, with those eerie Avada Kedavra eyes of his, she elaborated further.  
“I want to be a teacher; anything that is an advantage to the children within these walls has my support and allegiance.” Harry nodded, recognizing her oath even without formal words.

“Blunt like a Gryffindor!” she couldn't help but complimenting him.

“Playing like a Slytherin!” he answered her in equal candour. She blushed, that was a great compliment from a Slytherin, especially from this Slytherin.

“So...when and where? I will be there.”

Harry looked aside.  
“We were discussing this but then everything happened. Can I come to you later?”

“No problem.” she was angry with the Black bitch again.

Suddenly, without warning, Harry looked down and his lips parted in a huge happy smile.  
“We better get down.” and what a surprise, Riddle was waiting below, his impatience visible even to that height.

“Boyfriend came to get you!” she couldn't help a last tease.

“Shut up Minnie,” he bit out and started descending.

Minerva followed him.  
“I don't know,” she said, almost to herself. “You convinced him to help you out with the students; if that it's not a proof of eternal love from him I will be very surprised.”

Harry didn't show that he heard her, shooting down in that blinding speed, and she had kept her voice low enough to not reach Riddle and embarrass him.

Down to the ground, Riddle and Harry were already in their own world.  
_Who Riddle was kidding by dating Granger, she didn't knew_ _–_ _too bad, she was a truly good girl._

“Minerva.” he greeted her, always polite, but he didn't exchange a word with Harry, obviously expecting her to leave.

“Tom.” she greeted him back and had the pleasure of his brief surprise as she left the Slytherins to their own devices. 

* * *

**~*~**

* * *

  _ **Harry's pov**_

Harry was looking at Tom and couldn't believe it; the teenage Dark Lord had put his reputation to the line for him. He was overwhelmed by his emotions, with gratefulness as the stronger one. For all their fights and their deals there was truly no better friend than Tom in the whole world. He wanted to throw his arms around the other boy and never let him go, but even with their close friendship it would have been a bit much. Thankfully Minnie's presence and Tom's formality held him back. It would have been all too easy to reveal too much.

Still, his emotions needed a way to express themselves and when Minnie had bided them a hasty retreat he had clasped Tom loosely at arm's length, held for dear life and uttered the most heartfelt...  
“Thank you!” ever leaving his lips.

He'd expected to be ridiculed of course, but for the first and, probably, only time in his life Tom looked taken aback and genuinely touched. Then he clasped his own hands around Harry's biceps, closing their circle, and spoke very softly.  
“You are welcome.” something unidentified passed between them.

The moment held, like infinity, until Zevi started coughing discreetly.  
“If you two don't need me, may I leave?” his face was bright red and looked something worse than uncomfortable.

Harry coloured too and his hands fell like they weighed a ton. _How much had he shouted with his actions?_ Tom in turn looked like nothing was out of the ordinary and simply tilted his head in acknowledgement. But Harry, for all his embarrassment, couldn't dismiss him like that, Zev was also his friend.

“Thanks Zevi, I mean it. Sorry to make you wait like that.” he said at least.

“Any time.” Zevi turned to leave but then stopped mid-off and asked. “Would it have been better if I'd flown too instead of staying down?”

Harry felt a rush of warmth and it leaked in his voice.  
“No, not really, I needed time with myself and she intruded, quite rudely to tell the truth.” Zevi nodded and left them alone.

Finally Tom's arms fell as well.  
“I didn't do it only for you;” he told Harry casually, “everything that happens to you reflects to me, I couldn't leave Walburga with such a victory, or even Dumbledore. If he had managed to do something like that to you the next step would have been to repeat it on me.”

Harry felt like he was floating on the clouds. Nothing in Tom's, too logical, voice bothered him, instead it was quite reassuring. Nothing had changed. Still he couldn't keep the laughter in his voice when he answered.  
“I know that Tom, you don't have to worry.”

Tom's eyes narrowed.  
“Glad to hear.” then he smiled, “So had fun with the girlfriend?” his voice turned stinging sweet, bad, bad, sigh, even without the smile.

 _Salazar!_ The joke was getting older by the second. Harry managed to not splutter and offered a dangerous smile of his own.  
“Actually, yes, we had a great time.”

“Obviously, you looked quite animated, care to share the fun?” Tom raised an eyebrow.

“No, not really.” The mere thought of Tom viewing Minerva's teasing was enough to make him want to get drowned in the lake.

“Come now, Harry, we're not kids, you can tell me, I'd share too.” he leant forwards, looking eager.

Somehow this was much worse than Tom hitting on him; it was a new type of teasing with an unfamiliar quality in Tom's voice that was making Harry wary. The cherry on top was that this was a game he really couldn't and wouldn't play.  
“Not on your life, Mione is going to kill us both if you breathe a word on your personal moments.”

“You really think I can't handle her?” the tone was decidedly dangerous.

 _Oh..._  
This was leaving teasing behind and moved into something precarious.  
No matter how many times they played each other's therapist this was a subject he would rather avoid. He held his broom tighter, but he couldn't stay silent forever.

“On everything but this, yes. If you want to keep her, that's it.” he said at least.  Tom could probably get away with many questionable things and Harry wondered if the oath covered such things, the last thing he needed was to have to console a heartbroken Hermione. Things were awkward as they were.

Finally Tom nodded curtly.  
“Don't worry; I don't plan on breaking her.” Harry couldn't help a sigh of relief.  
“So, Harry, aren't you going to share anything?”

He was like a dog with a bone, Harry wanted to hit him.  
“Two things,” he said finally, “Minnie's brother's employment seems to be perfect for you and Minnie is on board with helping us.”

“Hmm, its Minnie now,” Tom drawled, “Don't you even think that you will get away with talking to Minerva before swearing, but, just because I'm bored, what exactly is it that her precious brother does?”

Harry smirked, he'd got him now.  
“He's a Silveror.”

Tom tried to play it indifferently but his eyes had gone alight with interest at the mentioning of the term.  
“Not a bad place to start if things don't work here, good call!”

Harry's smirk widened and became a smile. _Well look at that, he may get his dream to see Tom a lawyer after all..._

“Don't you dare smile on me now!” Tom snapped abruptly.  
“Not after spilling to Minerva before finishing negotiations.”

Harry's expression fell. Bad, bad move to relax around Tom.  
“She was here, I used my chance, it would have been idiotic to search for her another time. And I thought that we were in agreement?”

Tom smirked, shark like.  
“Only unofficially, and you can't tell me you are that eager to trust her after Dumbledore's tricks.”

Harry was resolute.  
“You'd be surprised, but if you're so worried, I got her to swear first.”

Well, not to the degree he implied, but unlike some long dead arsehole, he trusted Minerva.

“Not always enough, but I suppose that it will do.” Tom's reasoning followed the same vein as his, even with the closed mind link.  
“Now swear, or do you want me to repeat the terms?”

Harry raised a hand.  
“Wait a moment; aren't you going to swear too?”

“Why should I, you're the one in debt?” he said, but there was approval in his eyes.

“Tom.” Harry replied warningly, and that was it.

Tom may play this dramatically but it was apparent that he was having fun.  
“What are your counter terms?”

“I want you to swear to teach the students, no matter their year, or if you like them, to the best of your ability without slaking or truly scaring them.”

“That's all?” Tom asked arrogantly.

“Do you want me to add more?” Harry asked with raised eyebrows.

“I don't really care, but I take it that the last part came from Minerva dearest.” Tom tried pretty hard to look like he was pouting.

“How did you figure it out?” Harry forced his lips to not twitch.

Tom shook his head.  
“Harry, darling, you are keeping with a really bad crowd.”

“And you figured this now after three plus years?” Harry answered, staying completely expressionless.

They kept a completely straight face for only a moment or so and then they cracked in wide grins. Harry swore flawlessly without reminder, cheekily adding that it was binding only if Tom kept his own terms and Tom followed suit with a pretence of distaste.

“Let's get back, hero.”

“Oh, I don't know, Tom, maybe it should be you the one called hero, you saved my neck after all, hell you even came to the dreadful Quidditch pitch to get me...” Harry's teasing was nine parts sincere and one part something else.

“Don't push your luck, sweetheart, and as a point of reference I always save your neck... .” 

* * *

 **~*~**  

* * *

The day passed slowly after that. The only excitement came at lunch when an embarrassed Headmaster Dippet honoured Tom and Harry by giving them an award for their courage during the battle in Hogsmeade. There was not a single mention of the day's incident, yet there wasn't a doubt in anyone's mind that there was a correlation between the two.

For Harry, the day passed tortuously slow for completely different reasons. Firstly because many from the older years kept a wide berth from him, giving him fearful looks. Now, whether that was because they believed him capable of doing something distasteful as this, or were guilty of doing something like that themselves,  
Harry didn't know. Frankly he really didn't care but he was getting more tired and annoyed by the second.

What truly bothered Harry could be surmised in two words: Walburga Black!

The Black heiress had been fearful when he and Tom had returned to school but as the hours passed the girl had regained her haughtiness. Harry wasn't sure if it was acting skills or if she really was stupid enough to believe she could get away, but in either case, even though there were still flashes of intense anger at the pit of his stomach, he had started pitying her.

There was no way on Earth that Tom could ever let something like this pass for a thousand reasons, the motivation for the delay laid probably to the fact that whatever Tom planned to do, it wasn't going to be some simple curses, or even easily curable.

Harry wasn't the only one who thought so; he could see it in the anticipatory grins that were exchanged between Brax and Zevi or _(Sweet Salazar!)_ Alphard and Mione... Normally he and Tom would handle things just between them and the offender, but this time the crime had been too malicious, too public, to be handled in private.

The only one completely serene to their table was Tom, who was eating his dinner, calmly as you please, with an expression so angelic that butter wasn't going to melt in his mouth. Dumbledore was the single person in the hall looking suspiciously at him. Harry wondered if they should leave disillusioned guards just outside the common room in case the old man wanted to grace them with his presence, but he doubted Dumbledore would visit. He wasn't one to give much attention in the scions of dark families, except if he had something to gain...

 _D_ _efinitely guards then; if they got caught it was expulsion_.

Harry would be a liar if he didn't admit that a portion of excitement wasn't flowing in his veins too. As it was, he was torn between a secret vindictive glee and the pain of his principles. But, for once, the battle wasn't quite that hard, his ethics stood alone not based in caring. He wasn't ready to forgive her, not for a real good while yet, and even if he could spare her in Sirius' memory and beg Tom for her, falling on his knees, it wouldn't change a thing.

He was resigned in that part happening, what wasn't ready for was that he must participate at the torture as well. He had tortured another person only twice before, Lestrange, and the second, physical, time had been almost immediately after the bastard had grievously hurt Mione, so it wasn't difficult to find incentive.

But it wouldn’t be too different right now; half a day later wasn't going to be enough to forgive. If he recalled the humiliating moment for a second his blood started burning.

The problem was that he was going to torture her not out of his anger but because he had to. He was certain that Tom hadn't mentioned randomly that Harry's actions reflected on him, it was a direct warning to compose himself, but even if that wasn't the case, even if he could consider writing Tom off (impossible) there was another reason that was making the whole debate academic: _Survival._

There weren't many times that the political games in Slytherin turned lethal. Most of the time the fights were conducting with words, and for that reason, alone, it was easier in Gryffindor to get violent. But when these things happened in Slytherin they had repercussions.

Harry was ready to retaliate after Walburga's vicious attack because if he didn't, if he simply left Tom and his friends to do it for him, he was going to be considered either Tom's pet, at best, or cannon fodder, at worst, and anyone's plaything.

He wasn't going to let himself get in such vulnerable position, for someone he cared about he could lay down his life, but for dearest Walburga now it simply wasn't worth it. After all, Burgs wasn't going to die, or even take permanent harm, no matter how she may end wishing it, in the course of the night.  
_Yes, Harry was still furious; he was probably going to get fewer problems than he was anticipating._

Finally dinner was over, Tom got up and the rest of the house slowly followed suit. Walburga looked like she wanted to stall but a sharp look from Tom stopped the notion, the Black girl then raised her head and walked first into the dungeons.  
Harry supposed there were negative and positive things in pureblood arrogance.

When they reached the common room, Walburga tried once again to get away to her dorm, but an ever-increasing circle from students of all years cut the way. Seeing that there was no way out she stood at her full height, waiting.

Finally, Tom approached her.

“Walburga Black,” he started formally, “I have always respected your family and held its members in high estimation isn't that true?”Alphard, Orion, and even little Cygnus, the first year, acknowledged concurrently that it was true.  
“And yet, today, you tried to grievously, unjustly, hurt not merely one of mine but a dearest member of my own family. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Harry's breath got caught in his throat. Tom had referred him many times before as family but it was almost always an of hand comment. This time it was publicly, formally, acknowledged in front their whole house, more so, Tom had enacted the pureblood code, giving everything an official gravity. Harry had never expected something like that. For a moment the room went swimming in front of his eyes but he fought his weakness, focusing his entire attention upon Walburga.

“I, Walburga Black, don't recognise you, Tom Marvolo Riddle,” she stressed the surname, “the Right of Retribution. You are a halfblood, and hereby not my Peer, to be entitled to exact that right.”

Every breath choked in the room. Tom's eyes flashed. No one expected such a direct challenge. That was the problem with Tom going the traditional route, if it was not properly responded to, even if Tom killed her, he was still going to lose face.

“My blood and magic gives me the right,” Tom answered simply, with something that went beyond haughtiness. He was right of course; no one in Slytherin house could deny this. The blood traits and gifts of his line were obvious and he was recognized as the most magical gifted person in the school. The pureblood heirs (most of the house) acknowledged this.

“We, recognize you, Tom Marvolo Riddle, the Right of Retribution.” Tom was ready to resume when Alphard came forward. The room froze, expecting him to either challenge Tom or plead for his sister. He did neither.

“I, Alphard Cepheous Black, not only recognise Tom Marvolo Riddle the Right of Retribution but also acknowledge, in stead of my father Cepheous, that my sister dishonoured our most ancient and noble family and am thereby handing her to him to punish as he sees fit. So Mote Be.”

This was completely unexpected.  
Alphard, could have shown his support as a friend and follower by simply standing by Tom's side. This was his revenge, for Harry.

Walburga's eyes almost bulged out, her haughty resolve shattered.  
“Father is going to flay your back for this.” she hissed.

Alphard smiled grimly, the usual playfulness and geniality gone like a poof of smoke. He was every bit the proud Black Heir.  
“No he won't, not if he learns everything.”

Walburga lowered her head in humiliation and two tears started trailing her face.

Tom came forward again and instead of the angry tightening on his lips, that Harry half feared for Alphard stealing his moment, there was a brief, almost warm for Tom's standards, nod of approval.  
“I will repeat once again, Walburga Black, what do you have to say for yourself? Or do you forfeit that right?” Tom's melodious voice hushed the room once again.

Walburga pulled herself hastily together and wetted her lips.  
“I respected you, Tom Marvolo Riddle,” she said with poise. “You were going to become our Lord, Lord Voldemort, and clean our world from the muggle taint. What happened to you? Why did you throw away your noble ideas and started consorting with halfbloods and mudbloods?”

A small snicker sounded at the back, as with the last question the reason of Walburga's aggravation became apparent, but even that was muffed immediately. But for all the momentary hilarity, there were many faces that were clouded in consternation and doubt. It was impossible for Tom to not answer in such a direct confront. Tom was probably swearing a blue streak inside, now, and deeply regretting invoking the Great Justice Rite, but there was no way to back out.

Still no one could even dream that there was an inch of disquiet from looking at Tom's figure. He looked calm, collected, totally relaxed, and more magnificent than ever.

“My friends,” he started, “I never made secret my total revulsion and loathing for muggles. That hasn't changed and never will, but politics and the best for our world have nothing to do with emotions and while I'm still inclined towards total separation and intend to enforce it, given the chance, that partition shouldn't and wouldn't involve our mudborns...” a breath.

“I have grown up, as you must too, and instead of simply dreaming I have studied and understood. We are not even half the wizards our forefathers were, in a couple generations our children will be even less.” Abraxas nodded grimly in acknowledgement. Tom continued.  
“We need new blood; our mudborns and halfbloods to enrich our bloodlines and make us strong again, else in a few generations there will be nothing left than a few weaklings capable of lumos lost in an ocean of muggles.”

There was an angry muttering around the room after Tom's last statement, but no one dared to directly challenge him. There was not a single sift of unease in Tom's posture with the crowd's disapproval. If anything, he looked even more relaxed than before, with his eyes sparkling, and the barest hint of smile gracing his lips.

 _He is enjoying this_ , Harry realised with a start.

“My friends,” Tom continued again, his voice softer, yet somehow, even more commanding than before, forcing absolute silence.  
“I am a halfblood. Yet, no one, in this room, in this castle, can dispute my power. Some of you have even bestowed me with the title of Lord, even with Grindelwald's imposing shadow just outside our walls, what is that telling us? More, the only one capable of reaching my power is also halfblood,” he looked at Harry, making it clear that he meant him, just in case some had doubts.

“Consider this carefully, fellow Slytherins, before you wind up with any conclusions.”  
Tom took a deep breath, letting his audience absorb his words.

“But the fact that mudborns and halfbloods are ours does not mean in any way or form that we should compromise our heritage on their behalf. There are magical means that can recognise a magical child at birth, or, at worst case, first accidental magic.  
We are going to get those children, hold them close, and build our world to greatness with them.”

The crowd got wild; the impassive Slytherins looked ready to raise him on their arms but something in his stance held them back. Even those that a few moments ago were looking at him with doubt now held a look of contemplation and hope.  
Even Mione, who wasn't sanguine with the last part, looked excited and happy.

Harry was ready to burst with happiness; he was so full with pride. The first time, the rise of Voldemort, based on old tripe, signified an age of horrors. This time, this chance, the rise of Tom Marvolo Riddle was full of hope and based on something worthwhile. Harry believed in this, believed in Tom. Everything was worth it.

“Friends,” Tom's voice rose a bit to be heard in the chaos,  
“This is not the place, nor the time, for this, we have another purpose. Think on everything that I have told you and come to me in a few days.”

Everyone quieted, the circle was resumed. Walburga looked at Tom with a new fear in her eyes, not only for the pain that he was going to inflict on her, but for the Lord he was truly becoming. Still, she kept her wand in a hand that looked to be made entirely from bone and held her ground. She didn't beg. Harry, for all he still wanted to bash her head in a wall, couldn't help feeling a reluctant admiration for that. After all, Sirius must have gotten his steely determination from somewhere.

Tom disarmed her and fast as lighting cast a wandless Parsel spell to protect her vital organs. Harry recognised the spell and was more than appreciative. Finally, he levitated her wand at Alphard, in a surprisingly courteous move, so that it wouldn't get damaged in the proceedings.  
Preparations completed, he made a small bow at Harry.

“Harrison, the direct offence was against you, the first strike is yours.”

Harry accepted graciously, and even though his stomach was tight, he was ready.  
Still, for all the graveness, he couldn't resist and as he traded places with Tom he opened the link and offered a mental ‘Wow’ for the performance and a ‘Thanks’ for his consideration. Tom’s lighting fast grin was answer enough.

Walburga obviously hadn't learned her lesson and, for all the respect she had shown Tom, still looked at Harry underneath her nose, like if he was something dirty. Harry didn't mind, there was enough time to show her the mistake.

Suddenly, feeling much more at ease than he had expected, Harry decided to start small. A few breaking bone curses were just the thing. With a few calculations he made the breaks the nastiest possible, not on her main body of course, but her limbs. He even managed to writhe out and a few pain cries from her chest.

Feeling adventurous, he decided to really take his revenge.  
A bit of concentration and every bone in her wand hand was shattered. She was going to heal that hand but, unless she decided to vanish every bone in said hand and re-grow it with skele-gro, was going to feel it for the rest of her life.

He was considering his next move when Tom's hand in his shoulder broke his focus.  
“That was enough.”

_That was all?_

For a moment Harry felt cheated. But as he took his place back to the circle he was also relieved. His part, at least, was over. In addition, some of the others were looking at him, wincing and rubbing gingerly their hands.  
_He had made an impression; at least, he wasn't completely ridiculous_.

Hermione took the spot after him. Her electroshock curses were impressive and made quite the stir with her creativity, but even she wasn't allowed for long. Then Zevi, then Brax, not Alphard.

Finally, Tom took the spotlight.  
In the start he made a show of healing everything, except the hand, to give her a brief respite from the pain, all the crueller for it.  
He then built from it.  
Harry had seen Tom torture before – had been under his Cruciatus once. But nothing, absolutely nothing, could be compared to this.

The time that Tom had him under the Cruciatus it looked like he was making it a chore, bored out of his mind. The day of Lestrange's execution he had played with his victim until he got bored and dispatched him. There had been revenge then, a long time coming, but it was a cold anger.

This time it was different, it was fresh and was very –very– personal. Tom was beyond angry but also completely in control. His curses inflicted the maximum possible pain for the longest duration. Yet, he was also very careful to not create permanent damage that could impede her having children.

Harry couldn't lie to himself. _This was happening for him!_

Oh, he didn't doubt that Walburga's defiance played its part, she had probably infuriated the Slytherin Heir beyond belief, but this was happening because she dared to threaten him. Tom had claimed him as his – family – and anyone and anything that dared to hurt him in any way was going to be destroyed beyond recognition.

It took over an hour!

Most had grown weary but no one dared to leave. Mione looked faintly green and was steadied by Zevi. Harry was in a strange meditative stage, somewhere between horror and terrible admiration. Tom's moves had become fluid as he threw curse after curse at Walburga, rebuilding her and destroying her, without feeling the tiredness. For there was no way that he wasn't tired, not after such mental and physical exertion.

Harry wanted to believe that he was truly repulsed, but he couldn't... Not here and not now.

There was a dark part of him, not even the smallest, that was thrilled with this brutal declaration. He was loved; he belonged, and was never going to be left alone again. After all the feelings were a two way street. If anyone dared to even think about hurting Tom he was going to respond with infinitely worse than bone breaking curses.

Finally, even Tom had enough. He crunched down, whispering something in Walburga's ear that made her whimper in horror, beyond even crying at this point, and nodded at Zevi to take care of her with his potions.

Tom got up and Harry took in his whole form.   
Tom's hair was unkempt, the barely there wave almost forming curls. His brow and just prior to the upper lip was doted with beads of sweat.   
_Harry wanted to taste them_.

Their eyes met, Tom's were a strange, stormy, combination between violet and red, barely a step before madness.  
_He should be afraid!_

Instead, he realised that everything intimate he had dreamed for him and Tom, before, were childish games.  
He didn't want just chaste hugs anymore... he wanted to touch and taste– _everywhere_. He wanted to lose himself in everything that Tom was, to revel in it. 

Harry should have been terrified and disgusted, but he wasn't. Tom returned every single one of his feelings with a passion that was nearly inhuman. The only thing Harry could do was to take everything in, accepting him, and offer everything he was in return.

The room had disappeared. Nothing else existed in the universe except the two of them. Harry wasn't thinking how or why, the only thing that mattered was being with Tom. There was no room for doubts, their blazing open connection making sure of it.

Harry took unconsciously a step forward and Tom... Tom's eyes were cooling, their link closing, like a heavy door to his face.

Tom suddenly yawned and rubbed his eyes.  
“It's late, people, go to sleep.”

Everyone, except the six of them, left the room like they were on fire.

Tom acknowledged each of them with an appraising look.  
“Gentlemen, it was a success.” he offered Hermione his arm. “Coming my dear?” he asked charmingly.

Harry didn't understand a thing. How could Tom act like it was absolute nothing? It had happened – that moment had happened! And not even Tom's acting talent at its best could convince him otherwise.

He approached Tom without hesitation, for all that the other's posture now was screaming danger and was striding, all but dragging Mione with him, towards the door, and grabbed him by the arm.  _He had the right_.  
“Tom, what the hell happened?” he asked trying not to explode.

“Not now Harry, **please**. **”** there was no inflection in Tom's voice, but that one word? _Unheard!_

Harry's hand left Tom's sleeve like it was made of acid. He didn't knew the reason for the backing off but he was going to follow Tom request and give him time. He was left alone with the three Slytherins and a semiconscious Walburga.

“What's wrong Harry?” Zevi asked.

He forced himself to smile almost carefree.  
“Nothing that it can't be handled in a few hours. Don't worry Zev.”

For the first time ever Zev was too wrung out and bought it. But Brax was looking at him with too sharp eyes, he had seen...  
Thankfully, Alphard seemed oblivious, caring for his sister.

Abruptly, everything was falling on his head, he needed time, alone, to think and understand if anything had changed at all. Because with a sudden feeling, like a lead, he knew that nothing was really going to change. 

* * *

 **~*~**  

* * *

_ **Tom's pov** _

Tom was pacing like a caged tiger, trying to come to grips with what had happened. _He had denied Harry._

For a single, glorious, moment he had everything he ever desired, the true start of his empire and undeniable, positive, proof that Harry felt for him the same way.  
He had been forced to deny Harry and to continue denying him.

He wasn't used into refusing himself things, especially those so desired, but he didn't have a choice. Not only for something as simple as the fact that if they got any closer than they were (almost impossible) it would be near infeasible to keep Harry away from his research, but for something far more sinister...

Harry had been excited seeing him torture Walburga!  
_That wasn't Harry._

Therefore, it was quite possible that all those emotions Harry had projected at him were a by-product of bloodlust or –worse– the madness. It was more than probable; Harry never held that kind of feelings before tonight.

He was never going to be sure until he managed to help Harry reabsorb the horcrux safely. Until then, he was going to keep his hands to himself at any cost.  
_It was never that difficult before._ He was going to manage.

Harry would accept him gladly now, but when Tom accepted anything at half measure?  
He wanted Harry but he wanted him whole.

For all his weariness, he needed more exertion to be able to finally shut out his mind and body.  
He didn't dare to heed at the R room or the Chamber.  
Harry was prowling the castle and, for the first time in his life, Tom wasn't totally sure that his will was going to be enough to refuse Harry, for a second time tonight, if he asked.

_The next months were going to be hell._

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS Edited at 10/07/2014  
> Please review to inspire me for more...


	3. Realisations and a Battle.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally they know of each other's feelings, but what are they going to do about it? Also on top of everything there is and Grindelwald to consider...

 

**Chapter Three: Realisations and a Battle**

_ **Harry's pov** _

Harry donned his Quidditch attire feeling quite relieved, for once, to be out of Tom's presence for most of the day. Four weeks had already passed since their _‘Understanding_ ’ after Walburga's punishment. Understanding, being, of course, a huge understatement... He had been right. Nothing had basically changed between him and Tom, yet nothing was the same.

Tom had reacted predictably, pretending it never happened, just like he'd expected. Harry had tried to wait for him until he was ready but when Tom had annoyed him in one of their training sessions he had lost his cool and things had got downright ugly from there.  
Harry closed his eyes, remembering, and trying to figure out how he got in such a mess.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

{They had started training in the chamber, as he had promised, since Tom had kept his part of the deal and they had started organizing study groups in the R-room from each class.

The problem was that the repeated combination of the disturbing place, the use of even more deadlier curses than usual and – _worse_ – his new awareness of how Tom was affecting him, made it impossible to completely hide it. One day, after the fourth time he found himself thrown in the dark waters of the ditch, even Tom had enough of it.

“Harry what's wrong with you?”  
The Slytherin Heir had crossed his arms and was scolding him for all it was worth.

Harry had got out of the water without help – Tom seemed more likely to drown him than aid him!  
“Nothing is wrong with me.” he returned.

“Really, darling,” Tom tsked, “nothing is such a peculiar word. Normally you would have dodged or shielded most of what I've thrown at you, but today you only end up taking a swim. Something must be wrong.”

Harry really didn't like that patient, measured, tone.  
“Alright, you got me, the chamber is getting to my nerves, badly, but I will get used to it, don't worry.”

Tom didn't look convinced.  
“Try harder, golden boy. There is some truth in that, but we've been training here two whole weeks and it's only today your performance has turned so abysmal. Tell me,” he ordered.

“Why the hell you do care so much?” Harry asked, almost bitterly.

Tom raised an eyebrow.  
“You know better than this, Harry, now spill...”

“Tom, leave it,” he half commanded, half pleaded, his friend.

“Why should I?” Tom had gotten closer to him again. “You are wound up tighter than a steel coil; you could get yourself killed. What's the point in having a girlfriend if she doesn't take care of you?”

Harry's head snapped up. He was beyond enraged, so much so that the words left his lips before he could stop them.  
“Oh yeah, then why pray tell are you in the same shape as me? You hide it well, but I could tell that in the past week you have been only a step above homicidal, why? Doesn't H...”

Harry stopped, horrified, as his brain caught up with his mouth. The last thing he ever wanted to do was to contemplate on Tom and Herm's relationship, never mind insulting her like that. He wished with all his heart for the Basilisk to descend and eat him.

A moment passed, he opened his eyes, not quite sure when he had closed them. Tom didn't look murderous, merely contemplative, with a strange smile twisting his lips. Harry's stomach dropped into the abyss. He wanted to run far away, but he wasn't a coward, so he stood there trying to look prepared for whatever tornado his unthinking words had unleashed.

“I thought it was something like that.” Tom's voice was so soft it could barely be heard, but it sent goose bumps flittering across Harry's skin.  
“Not an easy thing to indulge, at either side of the spectrum, is it? Especially with your Lioness...”

Harry gave the other a look. He wasn't sure he understood what Tom meant, but it certainly wasn't what he expected.  
“Tom?” he asked, completely baffled.

“Shh, I understand, it's alright. It's not the first time for me that I've become horny after torturing, but they're not the kind of desires I could indulge with Hermione, I respect her too much for that.”

Suddenly Harry understood. All blood rushed out of his face.  
“Tom, I'm not like that, I don't get off on others' pain.”

Tom all but rolled his eyes.  
“I know that Harry, but I doubt that your Minnie would be any more comfortable if you asked her to hurt you as opposed to you hurting her.”

 _Enough!  
_ “I have told you a hundred times before – I'm not a masochist!” he all but shouted.

Tom fixed him with a level gaze.  
“Really, then how do you explain the previous Sunday?”

Harry's eyes widened as he finally got the complexity of Tom's trap. He was between a rock and a hard place. It was impossible to admit his true feelings in such circumstances while Tom got out of this virtually untouched. Harry had to hand it to his friend, this was masterfully played.

Tom's expression softened.  
“Don't look at me like that, Harry, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Let me take care of you, sweetheart, just for tonight.”  
The words were all but purred.

Harry swallowed hard, his throat suddenly parched, doing his damnest best to not show how affected he was.  
 _Where the hell had Tom found such sensuality in his voice?  
_

 _Masterful?_ _More like genius kind of plan!  
_ Tom wasn't holding anything back and if he got his way he could even get to touch without giving up on anything. Maybe, as far as six months ago, Harry would have been already by the door after something like that, but not tonight.

There was only a single way for him to win this and Harry wanted it. He wanted to bury his fingers in his friend's hair, to force that arrogant mouth to his own, and make Tom eat up his words. Harry knew perfectly well what he had seen that night and it had nothing to do with Tom's sadistic side.

 _Maybe this was the only way for him to ever have Tom_. Matter of factly and no big deal at all, like everything of a more personal level between them.Harry could happily live with that.  
 _He couldn't though_.

It wasn't that he was afraid that Tom was going to hurt him with his sadistic tendencies; he really doubted that his friend had any experience except actual torture. Truthfully, he was sure that before Hermione, Tom was totally ignoring whatever, if anything, happening under his belt. It wasn't even the thought of Hermione that was giving him the real pause, for all his guilt and deep aversion into hurting her. Though it had been proved once again that, even if he didn't love her, Tom held her in very high regard.

The true problem was that Tom didn't really want this. Or, even if he did, he wasn't ready.

Harry would have been certain of this, even if he couldn't sense the faint wisps of uneasiness, Tom's actions spoke louder than anything. In normal circumstances Tom couldn't keep his hands to himself, recently, and especially tonight, his friend had kept his distance at all times.   
Tom wasn't ready and Harry couldn't and wouldn't force the issue. He loved the other too much for it.

_If that was making him weak, so be it._

His friend, on the other hand, looked like he planned to never face their emotional component; Harry supposed that he could live with that.  
He smiled.  
“Thanks for the offer, Tom, but I'd rather we didn't.”

Tom frowned.  
“Why?”

What Harry heard was: _‘If you love me, why not?’_

It made his smile gentler.  
“I value our friendship too much to screw it up,” he told Tom in complete honesty.

“I see,” Tom answered.  
And that was that **.** -

The matter was closed forever from now on. It was not in any way or form going to be truly satisfactory, but, in a way, that he could live with. In Harry's experience those solutions tended to last longer.  
Emotional matters aside though, Tom had brought forth something serious.

“Speaking of problems, I'm not the only one who is spiralling. What's wrong with you? You have been absent this week except when we train the upper years until they are ready to fall down, and then we spar ourselves until we _actually_ fall. You are so tired that it's affecting you – you almost took Brax's head off yesterday. It's not like you to lose control.” he grew more worried with each word.

One corner of Tom's mouth lifted in a bitter smile.  
“If you insist.” he said amiably, but was a clear warning.

Harry's insides plummeted, for Tom to consent that easily it wasn't going to be pleasant.  
“You never wondered why I agreed to Hermione's plan for us, to eliminate, concealed, both Dumbledore and Grindelwald at their duel.”

Harry gulped, he was right; it wasn't going to be anywhere near pleasant.  
“Not too deeply, I understand that Dumbledore must die now, without our obvious direct involvement, for us to have a future and Grindelwald too. The pragmatism was too indisputable to even put forth other considerations.” he admitted, bitterly, at the last part.

“And now that plan is impossible.” Tom's tone was completely flat.

Harry's eyes flashed.  
“I already apologised for that.”

Tom smirked.  
“Don't get in a huff, darling, I wasn't lecturing you. Truthfully, if we manage to pull this off the results will be much more to my taste than the previous plan anyway.”

Harry latched immediately to the problem.  
“ _If_ we manage to pull this off? Why if? We survived Voldemort.”

Tom regarded him calmly.

“We survived Voldemort because I was intimate with his secrets and completely able to predict his behaviour, to a lesser extent so were you. I know nothing about Grindelwald except all we’ve read in the papers and everything Hermione had that reporter dig back in your time. He also possesses the elder wand. I would have preferred another ten or twelve more years of intense study to be completely confident in facing him.”

Harry stayed silent for a few moments. He had no idea Tom was that worried, and it was putting a new spin in many matters.

“I wasn't taking things completely lightly,” he tried to reassure. “We’re going to face him together, not apart, and we have the elder wand from the future, although admittedly we're not using it because we don't know what would happen... but it could still neutralise his,” Harry continued with confidence.  
“We are going to survive this. Hell, even Dumbledore bested him.”

The last part got a chuckle out of Tom.  
“I never said we were sitting ducks, golden boy, I just prefer the odds more staked in our favour when we fight for our lives.”

Harry relaxed.  
“I don't believe you, you live for the challenge.”

Tom leaned against the wall.  
“Maybe, but if I believed we didn't stand a chance I would have taken you and the rest of our people to Peru, or somewhere further, regardless of your complaints on the matter.”

“I know.”  
A moment of comfortable silence passed.

“I suppose that I could study more and not just concentrate on helping others.” Harry said, with fake reluctance.  
“I will see what Zev and Brax can lend me – you and Herm are hogging everything of Alphard's.” he complained mildly.

Tom flashed him his teeth.  
“Do that. I've told you a thousand times, if you applied yourself a bit more you could seriously challenge Hermione, or even me.”

Harry tilted his head in acknowledgement of the compliment but instead said.  
“I'm not dropping Quidditch.”

An _innocent_ rising of eyebrows...  
“Did I ask you to?”

They resumed their duel; Harry was much more successful this time.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

After that, Harry was resigned to the future, if not outright content, but Tom, contrary bastard that he was, was in no way ready to leave things as they were.

He spent very special gentlemanly attention on Hermione in their common room, not simply retiring in their room like he usually did, to the point that it was causing her to look slightly embarrassed, and making his seriousness about her a common conversation topic among the general student populace.

That Harry was expecting, even if he would have been much better without having it thrown at his face, but Tom's behaviour in private was much more puzzling and infuriating. He kept regaling him with small stories about Hermione, snaking tiny, intimate details in wherever he could, or asking insistently at how his relationship with Minerva was going.

If the first foray into that matter was incidental the later ones were – _anything but:_ _–_...

Someone innocent could believe Tom's actions as simply to be those of someone in love, or overcompensating, but Harry knew better. It was too deliberate, designed specifically to either have him hot and bothered or seething with jealousy, and unable to say a thing after closing matters himself.

Harry would have loved to find something to excuse his friend's actions, like insecurity, or jealousy, but he wasn't kidding himself. This was the favourite of Tom's games; having others chasing him but never getting close enough to touch. He was probably delighted at having Harry under his power in such a way. But Harry remembered Lestrange and it sent chills down his spine.

He know things were building again inside him, and he feared that someday soon he was going to get another crescendo that wasn't going to be pretty for anyone involved. A solution for Harry would have been to leave for a while, even for as little as the incoming Christmas vacation, to cool off and clear his head, but he knew Tom and he weren't going to go along on that idea.

His friend was going to see this as either a direct betrayal, with Harry nowhere near ready to go down that route (he had invested too much on Tom and the future of this world to even consider it) or worse, a direct challenge that he would accept nothing less than having Tom all to himself in every which way.

Harry wasn't kidding himself; he knew that he was probably important enough to the other that he could concede to this. And that it was only going to end in complete disaster, no matter how appealing it was in his darkest dreams... and not merely for the suffering that it was going to bring Hermione.

Tom and he were straining already, with the added feelings. If they added sex into the mix, without being ready to give everything, things were going to turn beyond violent. They were going to destroy themselves and each other.  
Something needed to be done.}

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

“Isn't this a bit intense for wool gathering?” Abraxas' sardonic voice brought him to the present.

If Harry didn't have excellent reflexes he would have found himself face down.  
“Hey guys, what's going on?”

“Quidditch!” Alphard shouted rather enthusiastically.

Harry found himself smiling; thankfully he had never lost his passion for the game.

Zevi bit his lips.  
“I'm not sure you should play, Harry, you seemed rather lost, are you sick?”

“I'm alright, Zev, of course I'm going to play.” he flashed of smile for caring, but his tone was firm.

“Oh, I don't know,” Abraxas' had a strange smile, “I wouldn't want you to fall from your broom and lose us the game.”

“Brax,” Harry tried for patience, “You've know me how many years? Have you ever seen me falling from my broom or losing a game?”

Abraxas shrugged.  
“Diggory is tricky.”

“Yeah,” Alphard took it from there, “Ever since his second year he rarely loses a game – before you came it was rather frustrating.”

“I'll do my best,” Harry told them simply. A sudden thought crossed his mind.  
“His grandson was even better.”

“Yeah?” Zevi was examining him closely.

“Yeah.” Harry relaxed.

He had never talked about Cedric with his friends, except for Tom, maybe it was time; perhaps, if things went alright this time someday he was going to witness him as champion.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Out in the Quidditch pitch before the game Harry got a weird surprise. Up front, in the Slytherin stands, he was pretty sure that Tom was sitting with Hermione. Herm always cheered him on his games but Tom never bothered coming. Something was up. Also, if he wasn't mistaken he could make out tartan.

 _Why the hell was Minerva sitting with them?_ Something was definitely going on...

Alphard came beside him and followed his gaze.  
“You are pretty lucky you know.”

That was uncharacteristically solemn from the Black heir. Harry hummed uncommitted.  
Alphard's eyes remained focused on tartan.

“She is beautiful, talented, loyal; amazing on a broom, the Quidditch pitch seems empty without her, you know. She even moved past the fact you're Slytherin and –knowing you– Salazar knows what else. I know she's not Tom, but you could have something amazing with her, don't screw it up.”

Harry was speechless. He didn't appreciate the mention of Tom but that wasn't what had him tongue-tied.  
“You're in love with her.”

Grey eyes focused on him without the usual humour.  
“I don't want to interfere in your relationship, but I don't want her to get hurt.”  
 _Please don't kill me,_ remained unsaid.

Harry examined things at lighting speed; he even used a tiny bit of Legilimency without shame. Tom could have very easily ordered Alphard to do it. But, thankfully, his friend was genuine.  
This was untying his hands.

“Minerva is not really my girlfriend, merely a close friend. She is covering for me after I got bored from people whispering behind my back that Tom dropped me and she was trying to get Dumbledore's attention.”

Alphard's eyes got alight at the first part but his nose creased at the second.  
“For real?” he asked.

Harry smiled.  
“I don't believe she is after him any more but I'm not completely certain.”

Alphard's face hardened.  
“The old geezer is never going to get a chance with her.”

“Good!”

Alphard turned apologetic.  
“You really don't mind?”

 _Things turned perfectly.  
_ “Not at all, if you treat her right I will be ecstatic for you two.”

“Are you kidding me? I wanted her for years; if she wants me I will never give her a reason to leave me. Hell, even as an old lady she was hot!”  
Harry made a face. _He really didn't need to hear that_.

“Are you sure that I have a chance with her?”  
Alphard's voice was hesitant again after the surge of enthusiasm.

Harry remembered the weakness the older Minerva was always showing towards Sirius and his pranks and didn't have the slightest doubt.  
“I believe you are just her type.”

Alphard beamed.

But Harry had remembered something else.  
“What about your family?”

Alphard didn't hesitate.  
“Screw them. This is a new age and time, I want her.”

Harry believed him. Alphard's voice wasn't wavering at all and his eyes were shining with passion and a determination that the Black heir rarely showed. This was going to last.

“If you two have finished your chat the game is about to begin.” Abraxas' interrupted smoothly. The Quidditch team aligned themselves and two minutes later Harry was shaking hands with Samuel Diggory. 

The Hufflepuff seeker was tall and muscular but not overly so. He should have been better as a keeper with his strong frame but he was such a crafty flyer that he could even give Harry pause. His colours were darker than Cedric's but his face resembled his grandson's a great deal.  
“May the best team win.”

“May the best team win.”  
They exchanged the traditional words and if they were more heartfelt than common for the antagonistic Slytherins no one looked at them strangely – Harry was an atypical Slytherin.

Harry also noticed that Sam kept his hand a few seconds more than customary for the usual handshake and that he kept examining him from head to toe. Normally, such things got right past him, by choice, but the whole thing with Tom had hyper sensitized his nerves. He blushed lightly under the other's apprising gaze, feeling far more flattered than annoyed. A small smirk grazed his lips; he was going to give the Hufflepuff something to follow with his eyes.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

  _ **Tom's pov**_

Tom's hand was itching to curse the woman sitting next to him. Minerva in turn was glaring at him like she would love nothing more than to throw him off the stands. Their feelings were completely mutual but he refused to honour her by showing her that he regarded her as a threat.  
 _He needed her after all..._

After four weeks of constant research he'd found some things that, corresponding with Granger's study, had the potential to keep them alive at the transition of Harry absorbing the horcrux without his whole soul rebelling. None of them were exactly pleasant or wholesome and normally Harry wouldn't accept any of these remedies at wandpoint.

Thankfully he had that handy oath to back him up. Unfortunately, even the most potential of those treatments were, just that, possibilities. There was no guarantee that any of them would work, not like the Stone. That returned him back to Minerva.

The Transfigurations apprentice had her eyes trained to the sky, ignoring him with everything she had. Granger was trying almost frantically to get her attention but Tom gestured for her to stop. Cat-girl wanted to play; he was going to let her. While the matter was urgent and he was an impatient person at heart, he could wait. It would be unseemly for him to leave before the match was over anyway.

_After all, he had played these kinds of games a thousand times before with far betters than dearest Minerva and they were going to be there for hours._

Harry was in a playful mood and was leading the badger all around the stadium in all kinds of crazy stunts. Tom had to ground his teeth more than once, but he didn't doubt that Harry knew what he was doing. The Hufflepuff followed each and every move with his eyes trained on a specific place.

Tom's eyes narrowed. He was dying to jinx the badger's broom, to teach the bastard where to keep his eyes, but, even if his oath wasn't binding, he couldn't do a thing. Harry was never going to forgive him if he did. He had glimpsed enough times in his friend's mind a face almost identical to the current Hufflepuff.

Harry pulled a very daring loop with the other seeker - _barely-_ managing to not crash. For all that his heart was logged in his throat, Tom was heavily entertained. Quidditch as a whole bored him to tears, but a competition between seekers was something different. Harry was born to fly. At that moment he embodied everything ferocious, powerful and free, and Tom longed to be with him. He was never going to be comfortable merely with a simple piece of wood, but under his own power it was something different. If Gramps had managed to invent a spell for that he could do it too, thrice better.  
 _Someday, when there was finally some time for a bit of leisure he was going to create it and share it with Harry_...

“Riddle, you are an idiot,” Minerva spat out of the blue.

“Excuse me?” he questioned icily, but he was completely mortified on the inside. He tightened the privacy wards around them.

This was the first time in his life that Tom had been caught completely unaware of his surroundings. Harry was right; the lack of sleep was leading him to make stupid mistakes. The complex circumstances weren't an excuse for such foolishness. He resolved then and there that he was going to get eight hours sleep this week, even if he had to nick a timeturner from the ministry.

Minerva's smile held cattish delight.  
“I called you an idiot, Tom,” she replied, not backing down an inch. “You are all but drooling looking at Harry, but doing nothing. Even a saint can lose patience.”

Granger snickered inside her scarf and Tom sent her a venomous glare – he would deal with her later, firstly, he had to regain his ground with the other bitch. She had shaken him out of extreme conditions, nothing more.  
“Are you telling me to stay away from your boyfriend, Minerva dear?” he asked, smirking, his tone alone promising pain beyond belief.

Minerva didn't flinch. Instead, she snorted rudely, very much like her older counterpart.  
“We both know that's rubbish, else you would have thrown me from the highest stairs.”

-It was true- he was keeping a very close eye at Harry's activities, they were never alone for a prolonged time, especially in her quarters. A stone snake opposite her door reported regularly of that.

The fact that he didn't react at all to her words had her shaken for the first time.  
“You really would!”

Tom merely smiled.

Minerva wetted her lips.  
“He wouldn't stand for it.”

Tom was very disappointed, he'd expected better from Minerva, now, than having her retreat behind Dumbledore's shadow.  
He decided to really scare her.  
“Would it really matter, dearest Minerva, what Dumbledore will do? You would be dead after all.”

Minerva looked relieved if nothing else.  
“Not Dumbledore, Harry. He wouldn't stand for something like that. You would have ended right beside me in the hospital wing and you wouldn't have killed me no matter what you are saying...”

Tom had to examine her then, how much had Harry told her? Strangely enough, nothing, she had deduced everything just by watching them. Not that Harry and he were exactly subtle, but her observation skills were far better than he had given her credit for. _Maybe she really could manage the mission._

But what truly impressed him was how vast her devotion to Harry was... Granger never accepted anything at face value and had the gall to double check his own calculations...  
 _Then again, Cat-girl had shown the same dedication to Dumbledore and Harry had spoken more truth to her in a month than the professor in fifty years. She was indeed going to prove useful._

However, the few seconds it took him to read her mind she had regrouped.  
“...But if you are going to kill me, better to put some things out my chest first.”

An unobservant person would have believed she was joking but the steely determination in her eyes told otherwise.  
“If you are keeping Harry at arms' length out of ambition, as I believe you do, you are going to regret it. He will be forced to either leave you completely, or to love someone else, else he breaks. Do you really want that?”

She took a deep breath.

“And you,” she turned to a -so far- rather entertained Hermione. “Harry speaks very highly of you and I have observed you in lessons, you are very intelligent, you could even reach Unspeakable for all the chauvinistic mindsets. What are you doing attaching yourself upon this one's arm? Yes, he's charismatic and will probably become Minister one day soon, but is that worth living a lie? Destroying Harry? If that is what you want, please leave him alone. He hardly needs friends like that.”

Granger's eyes, pathetically, filled with tears but her voice was firm.  
“It's not like that. You don't know all the facts; you can't really judge me.”

Minerva's face was pitiless.  
“Maybe, but I don't care, if you'll excuse me?” she got up, looking ready to sit a few seats to the left and leave them alone.

Curiously, Tom didn't want to wring her neck. _Harry's horcrux must have affected him a great deal.  
_ “You would leave before finding out the reason of the invitation? I asked you here after all.” he asked softly, but with an undertone of steel.

“You mean other than threatening me?” she tried for a teasing tone but it came out unnerved. She had obviously prepared her previous speech.

Tom smiled.  
“Of course, please sit down.”

She did, starting to look scared.

Tom was blunt.  
“Harry is dying; the only thing that can really save him is the Philosopher's Stone.”

Minerva started trembling but Tom had already lived that scenario once.  
“Oh please, don't pull a Granger,” he told her derisively.

Minerva's dark eyes filled with hate.  
“You're lying.”

 _Gryffindor women!_ Tom was getting really tired.  
“Unfortunately not, I could swear on my magic if you want.”

Minerva didn't look any less suspicious. She examined Harry, flying relatively near, and pursed her lips.  
“He doesn't look sick.”

Tom's nerves were on a fine edge. If she backed off now he was going to obliviate her hard, curse her even harder and Imperio her at the first chance he got.  
“It's not that kind of sickness.”

“He's telling the truth, Merlin helps us, he really does; we could lose Harry,” Granger rushed in.

“You really care?” Minerva was stunned.

Granger huffed.  
“Of course I care, Harry is my best friend, and it's so very difficult to keep things from him...”

Tom's profound irritation wasn't fading. Granger seemed to help, but...  
“Are you with us?”

Minerva froze, turning to look, purposely, at him.  
“My true allegiance is with Harry, as long as your aims concur with his, or are to his benefit, you have it as well.” she lowered very deliberately her head . “What will you have me do, my Lord?”

Tom didn't expect such a deep acquiesce. She meant it to her core. Harry may not understand it every time, but in his own instinctual way he acquired followers just as much as Tom did. People felt his intentions, together with everything else, and were ready to die for him.

 _He needed to find a way to hold even the minimal control over them_...  
“I want you to spy on Dumbledore until you find the secret location of the Flamel house, or the Philosopher's Stone's...”

Minerva nodded her acceptance.  
“I will, my Lord.”  
Pureblood training and etiquette was showing even in one from a Light family.

“...and I want you to tell Dumbledore about the lessons, but avoid at all costs saying the specific location.”

Both girls looked at him, wild eyed.  
“Tom you never mentioned something like that...” Granger started.

He tried to ignore her but she grabbed his arm. Tom removed her hand from his person very deliberately. Engaged charade, or not, only Harry had the right to touch him like that.  
“You are forgetting your place,” he hissed.

Granger glared daggers at him.  
“My place... Ha! I'm not one of your followers, I'm doing this to help Harry and you are going to hurt him. He has given his whole soul to that project. I'm sure that we can find a hundred other ways to cause misdirection.”

Tom wanted very much to slap her bloody. The last thing he needed was to have the other girl starting to doubt him again. They were already bolstering the fighting spirit of each other. _This could be a problem.  
_ “I know you can,” he told Granger, deceptively sweetly, “but can you honestly say that even one of them will be at least half as effective? How much time do you need for the calculations?” he couldn't help pushing her.

Granger had read the threat between the lines and paled considerably. _Good_ , she had started to understand in how a deep pile of crap she was in. Still, after the last dig her jaw firmed and her eyes unfocused as she indeed started calculating. A few moments later she nodded, obviously reluctant.

Minerva was looking from one to the other, pale as death. She had probably understood more than enough but needed confirmation.  
“Why?” was all she asked.

Tom forced his expression to soften He was definitely keeping them apart at all costs.  
“Your allegiance, as you put it, is hardly a secret in this school. You'll need strong bait for Dumbledore to believe you and relax in your presence, even marginally. If need be, tell him you are afraid that I will teach the students dark arts, it will get his attention.” Minerva didn't look any more pleased but nodded her acceptance.

“...Harry is never going to forgive you, us.” Granger said mournfully, “No matter how much it could help in the long run.”  
Tom flashed them a wicked smile.

“Don't be so fast, dear Granger. Give me some credit. I doubt he'll cut the lessons immediately; he will want to find out what we are teaching first. Also, he is not the headmaster, I can plead to Dippet.” he couldn't hide the disgust from his face at the prospect but if it was necessary he would do it.  
“Worse comes to worst, we continue the lessons even under direct decline. I doubt that the older years will be ready to give them up.”

He really enjoined their expressions of awed surprise.

“You thought about everything!” Minerva admitted, grudgingly impressed.

“I play to win, ladies, I play to win.”

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

_ **Hermione's pov** _

A few hours after the end of the Quidditch game Hermione left their quarters, almost fleeing, tearfully. Tom hadn't hurt her, especially to his standards, but, far worse than the mild pain curses to keep her attention, was the dressing down she received. Tom had a vicious tongue and she had started to believe he spared her, most of the time. Not this time though. They were almost the worst two hours in her life and she had wished she was dead more than once in their tenure. Add the fact that Minerva had practically despised her before she learned the truth and Hermione wasn't sure she could take it any more.

In her true time she had deeply respected her old head of house and here, in the past, that opinion was constantly reinforced, yet, she couldn't enjoy the same respect. Even now, Minerva knew the truth, but it didn't change the fact that her previous opinion was probably shared by the majority of the school.

Worst of all, Harry, her friend, her brother, the only person she could truly trust in this mad world, had started to turn to Minerva instead of her and she could do nothing about it, except lie to him again and continue hurting him every day, for his own good...Hermione laughed almost hysterically at that. _If only she could truly believe that..._

 _Damn Tom to hell and back for his obsession with secrecy!  
_ She couldn't do it anymore, not alone.

Her steps lead her to one of the small potion labs in the dungeons that professor Slughorn opened for the use of his NEWTs students. She rapped softly on the door and waited patiently for the few moments it took the room's occupant to stabilise his potion and come to greet her. Zevi half opened the door, looking ready to glare at the one that dared to interrupt him at his work. The tip of his wand was barely visible at the end of his sleeve. Upon seeing Hermione his expression softened immediately, but he still looked puzzled.

“Hermione?” he asked, visibly at a loss. She usually didn't interrupt his work, except if they had a project together; “Come, come.” he had her ushered in the room and sitting in a chair before she could even find her voice.

Hermione found herself relaxing. She loved being in Zev's workroom, there was such a peace there. Much like Ron, when he was playing chess, Zevi was in a state of absolute ease and control of his surroundings, ruling everything. Tom did the same everywhere, not only in his intimate sanctum, but the feeling he was giving off wasn't peace but crackling energy. Even Harry couldn't offer peacefulness; life had forced him to so much pressure that she doubted that he really knew the true meaning of the word. 

_If only she could simply succumb to that serenity forever._

“What are you doing here?” Zevi's voice was soft, almost tender, but it brought her to the present with a start.

Hermione still couldn't speak; she could only raise her head and look at Zevi. The softness turned to something fierce as he examined her over the better light of the room. Hermione blushed profoundly as gentle fingers traced the air over her tear-stains.

“Did Tom hurt you? Do you need a potion?”

Hermione had never heard the Prince heir's voice so controlled. They had become kind of friends during the last year or so, but she could have never dreamed that he cared that much. Even if it never crossed his mind to stand up to Tom for her, it was touching that he wanted to take care of her.

“I'm okay, he didn't hurt me; it would have been simpler if he did.” she whispered.

Zevi took it in stride, got a chair and sat beside her.  
“What happened?”

Hermione opened her mouth to pour out her problems, but she couldn't. _What if she got Zev hurt?  
_ Tom never mentioned if his oath covered his followers or if it was only directed at her. She rather doubted it. Harry wasn't foolish enough to give his independence only for her sake, but she also doubted that Tom could give even the slightest control over his followers.

_It was a mistake for her to come here._

She rose abruptly and headed for the door. Zev was faster and got in front of her before she could open it. Strangely, as she collided with him, instead of backing off and politely asking him to make way, she collapsed in his arms and started crying.

Zevi didn't move an inch, he simply held her protectively as she finally released out everything that had been torturing her for the last month. Her panic and horror about Harry's condition, her helplessness to do something that really made a difference, her fright of Tom and his anger, her absolute self-loathing for hurting Harry again and again. She poured out everything, all without saying a word.

When her tears had finally stopped Zev led her back to her chair and sat beside her.  
“Still can't talk about it?”

Hermione nodded, it could still be dangerous for him to hear this and thanks to him she was already feeling much better, even without speaking.

Zev thought for a second.  
“How about I tell you everything I know and then go from there?”

“Alright,” Hermione agreed readily and had to blush again at how bad her voice sounded after all that crying. Thankfully, Zev wasn't the type to comment on something like that.

Zevi looked aside for a moment before starting, like he had to fight his own demons too.

“I know that Tom planned a horcrux for Harry almost from the start and that a little before the final battle he convinced him into making one. Our friend floundered horribly after that, yet, in some way, he managed to pull himself together after we returned here, but somehow it's not the case anymore. Sounds right?”

“Yes, Tom talked to you too?” she asked relieved.

Zevi looked uncomfortable.  
“Not with so many details. He has been asking me to work on various restorative potions and ordered me to read everything available on the Philosopher's Stone.”

Instead of cheering Hermione up, that information depressed her. She slumped in her chair.  
“I'm a horrible friend, I'm supposed to be so observant and yet I missed all the signs of my best friend's suffering.”

Zevi lightly wrapped a comforting arm around her.  
“Don't be too hard on yourself, Harry is an amazing actor and I figured more than half by watching Tom rather than Harry.”

Hermione wasn't very convinced.  
“But you did, never mind that Tom was prepared almost before the crisis started.”

“I study people, it's not the same as studying books,” he reprimanded her gently, “and if Harry had cricked his neck during sleep Tom would have known it.” Zevi said the last part looking deeply uncomfortable.

Hermione sighed.  
“I suppose being obsessively in love with someone will do something like that to you.”

Zevi's jaw dropped open.  
“You knew?” he sounded weirdly delighted.

Hermione looked at Zev oddly; she couldn't make out his reaction.  
“I was certain in my time but, after we came here and they grew a bit apart, I let him convince me that he was interested. I wised up just before making the worst mistake of my life, not that he took it easy.” she hit a couple times the back of her head at the chair. “Merlin, I was such an idiot!”

Zevi smiled kindly.  
“You judge yourself too harshly for a second time. If Tom ever wanted to charm or seduce someone it happened. He is that good. Only Harry didn't follow the same pattern, but things are so tangled between them that it doesn't apply.”

Hermione's mouth ran completely dry.  
“You?” somehow the idea of Zev wanting Tom was far, far more disturbing and on many different levels than the thought of Tom with Harry.

Zevi blinked.  
“No, no! Nothing like that, Tom was more into searching for connections and talent to do his bidding. The only type of that sport he followed before Harry was to see how many girls were making a fool of themselves by chasing him.”

“Like me.” Hermione couldn't contain her bitterness. Zevi's face took on a mischievous light.

“That's the interesting part. You, he chased, intensely so, and with Harry's full blessings on top of that. That's why I didn't dare to warn you at all,” he confessed the last part softly. “Tom seemed genuinely interested, you seemed happy and Harry didn't look concerned for you, or your safety, and appeared generally alright with the whole affair. What right did I have to interfere?”

Hermione was again touched at the thought he wanted to warn her. That, and the fact that she was exceptionally relieved that Zev held no interest on Tom, or on any other guy, was something she decided to think upon when the whole specific mess was cleared.  
 _One trouble at a time!_

“Until it exploded in our faces,” she complained, frustrated. “Why couldn't they be honest with one another? I'd bet that if it was the case we wouldn't have even half the problems.”

Zevi examined her seriously and seemed to be thinking carefully about his answer.

“There are seasons for everything, like in the poem. If Tom and Harry were an average couple they would have a normal school romance and later, out in real life, their chances to make it work. But they are not, things are cutting so deeply between them, that they have to walk extremely carefully to make things work. Like the rarest of potions, the most volatile, dangerous, and supposedly dissimilar materials combined are able to create matter beyond dreams.”

His voice had gained a dreamy quality and that, more than their similar appearance, reminded Hermione of Snape. She could see where Zev was coming from, she really did, but she still believed that if Tom was less of a bastard things would have been easier.  
“I hope, for Harry's sake, that you're right.”

“You don't really believe it do you?”

Hermione bit her lip.  
“I don't doubt that Tom loves Harry, but he also hasn't exactly protected him from emotional harm. I don't know how this extension on things is going to work.”

“I believe you were together with your Weasley before we returned, no?” Zevi changed the topic.

“Yes,” she said a tad defensively, “But I hardly think that they are comparable.”

Zevi didn't back down, continuing to study her calmly.  
“Are you sure? Didn't Ron ever hurt you in any way before you got together?”

Hermione's mind flashed to the Yule ball in fourth year and many, many, other events. She didn't believe Ron came even close to the kind of git that Tom was, but there had been times that – for all her love – she would have happily throttled him.  
Her face was enough for Zev.

“You were managing him, like Harry manages Tom and vice-versa. Someday, and you will remember me on this, when the time is right and they are finally mature enough to be together, their eyes will meet and nothing will stand in their way. No previous bonds, ambitions, duty, or friendships. Nothing! You were lucky you got out of this when you did.”

Hermione was ready to tease him for how romantic he was sounding, when something of the pretty picture he was painting with his words flashed to her mind. Her face drained of colour.  
“What if that moment came too soon?”

Zevi didn't miss a beat.  
“Then we'll need to pray that we'll survive the deluge to come. What happened?”

Somehow Zev's description made her smile.  
“After I figured things out, I sort of goaded Tom into admitting his feelings about Harry, the next day the Walburga incident happened and I believe it occurred exactly as you described it.”

Zevi whistled softly.  
“No wonder the last month has been hell. Tom must have been beyond bastard to you.”

Hermione gulped as that strange tenderness was back to his voice.  
“Leave me out for now; what matters is for us to find a way to help Harry.”

Zevi shook his head, but it didn't look condescending.  
“We are doing everything we can with our research, the rest we leave with Tom. He usually finds a way to fix things between them...”

Hermione pressed her lips together in an effort not to answer, the last thing she needed was to open that topic again.

“...What I want to know now,” he continued, “is what made you cry so hard?” he raised his hand to stop her from speaking.  
“I love Harry dearly too, but it wasn't the only reason that had you so broken, nor Tom's atrocious behaviour. You are stronger than that.”

Hermione wavered over whether or not she should open up about something so personal, but in the end she decided she should. Zev was genuine and she couldn't speak to Harry about any of this, at least not yet.  
“I acted worse than a gold digging easy woman.” she bit out.

For once, Zev was unrelenting.  
“We already covered that.” and for him that was about it.

“You don't understand.” Hermione all but shouted, “Today Minerva all but called me a whore to my face.”

Zevi's face lost a great deal of colour, his eyes flashed angrily and Hermione was forced to remember that this kind and mild mannered man was a dark wizard.  
“She had no right; I'm going to make her regret it.”

It was Hermione's time to raise a placating hand.  
“Calm down, I set her right, the problem is not Minerva, but how many others believe it. I'm not sure that I can blame them.” the last part was a mere whisper.

“Like whom?” his tone was sharp. “You did nothing wrong.”

“Like people who I have come to consider as friends, Alphard and even that vain git Brax.”

Zevi visibly relaxed.  
“That was your concern? It's good then that I have an intimate knowledge of said opinions and I can share. Abraxas considers you a magnificent player and Alphard has sex on brains and so believes that sooner or later you will end up in a ménage-a-trois with the guys.”

Brax's estimation pleased and disturbed Hermione in equal parts. Pleased her, because for him it was the highest of praises, and bothered her, because it highlighted exactly what she feared. Alphard's idea on the other hand threw her into a loop.

It was so foreign a thought that her innate curiosity made her stop to consider the possibility. She had never thought of Harry in that light, except, as a small first year, when she got a crush on him after he saved her, with Ron, from the troll. However his sheer friendliness, goofiness, and the obviousness that he didn't see girls, or anyone really, in that light had drove her to the earthiest of their trio. But -truthfully- if she ever sat to think of the men in her life, with trust as the variable, Harry won over anyone, all hands down.

 _But how could it be with both the guys?_  
Hermione, liking it or not, was still attracted to Tom on some level (not that said attraction would stop her from doing the right thing) and she closed her eyes for a second and imagined...

And she had to open them back at the same moment. Even Harry, with the kindest of hearts, was so totally keyed on Tom that everyone else paled in comparison. Even if they were that much into denial and brought a girl between them to keep up the illusion she wouldn't mean much more than a rag between two dogs. Hermione shuddered.

“Where on earth does Alphard gets such ideas?” she grumbled, red as a tomato.

Zevi flashed a teasing smile at her, openly enjoying her discomfort.  
“You were always a part of a trio as a kid, why not continuing the pattern as an adult?”

Hermione blushed even worse.  
“I'm going to kill him!” she swore. “What if he has started giving Tom such ideas?” the mere thought was so chilling that she was thankful that she sat for fear of a blackout.

“Don't worry, he's never going to mention something like that to Tom, he knows better.”  
There was such a dark promise in the Prince's heir voice that Hermione relaxed, feeling much reassured.

Zevi shot her a look and continued teasing.  
“At least Abraxas' reaction was to your satisfaction.”

Hermione respected Zev too much to not answer honestly.  
“I'm not that sure that I'm flattered. It bothers me that people may think that I could use my friends, or even have an arranged marriage, to gain status.”

For the first time ever Zevi looked hurt.  
“Hermione, I have a vast amount of respect for you, would it be too much for you to respect my culture as well?”

She really hated that she had offended him so.  
“I-I don't understand.”

“Arranged marriages are an innate part of pureblood culture. My parents were married in that way.”

She didn't expect that.  
“But your parents obviously care deeply for each other?”

For a second, Zevi looked sheepish.  
“They grew close over time. Can we please leave my family aside?”

“I'm sorry; do you have a betrothal waiting down the line?” Hermione couldn't for the life of her figure out why she'd asked.

Zevi smiled.  
“Not really, my parents considered a girl, but nothing is closed, yet.”

Hermione bit her lips, hard.  
“Oh,”

“But we left the matter at hand.” Zevi's tone was very matter of fact.  
“Arranged marriages are much more than the meeting of two bloodlines to produce an heir. You gain an ally, a friend. If the two persons are close they can cover each other for many kinds of harm.”

Hermione's mind was almost convinced. She had never thought about it in that perspective before. She'd always had written it off as a monolithic mentality, but maybe it wasn't.  
“What kind of protection?”

Zev's expression was both serious and sly.

“The protection of a girl from her family, usually a marriage is the only way for a woman to gain her freedom. Also, our society is unforgiving of homosexuality, except in the school years. Tom and Harry may very well be required into such unions, especially if they are still planning to change the wizarding world from inside the ministry.”

Hermione had to concede at that. At this age, at least, arranged marriageswere truly useful even if she preferred her own age with fervour. Still...  
“Harry will never go for something like that; if Tom truly wants him he will probably have to fight against the stream to get the position he wants.”

Zevi's eyes glittered.  
“Are you sure about that? Harry is rather Slytherin, in whatever way you look it.”

Hermione started to enjoy herself.  
“I could bet on that.”

“Really, how much? It wouldn't be gentlemanly to ask for money, so what if you helped me with the trickiest potions? A skilled second pair of hands would be most welcome.”

Hermione's whole face lighted with pleasure, but then she looked down.  
“Are you sure you won't prefer money? It will be years before we find out one way or another.”

Zevi looked playfully sceptical.  
“Here's what we'll do. You will start helping me when you have the time and if after seven years they are still unmarried I will pay you handsomely for those hours. What do you think?”

Hermione was so happy she wanted to dance; still, she held her serious expression-as such a serious matter demanded it. Only her eyes were probably showing her excitement. She offered her hand.  
“Deal.”

“It's a deal then.” Zevi shook her hand firmly and then brought it to his lips.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

_ **Harry's pov** _

Saturday wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend, but as the last one before Christmas holidays most of seventh years were going for last minute shopping. Harry barely managed to cajole a very peevish Tom into accompanying him with their friends to the village...  
 _Well, more like threatening and pleading in equal measure, but who counted._

Tom had agreed at least, but it wasn't graceful. He was agitated from something but damn him if he did them the favour of speaking of it. Harry wasn't making the mistake of believing that it had something to do with the possible battle, for all his confession few days ago. Harry wasn't arrogant, but he rather doubted that anything less than Grindelwald himself was going to be a terrible problem.

He wondered if his friend's nerves had anything to do with Hermione and Zev, but he also crossed it out.

While there was a hint of increasing warmth between the two, as they quietly discussed the merits of that potion or other, it looked more like the start of comradeship rather than something intimate. After all, neither was the type for infidelity and, if Tom had speculated that there was something between them, he would have been much more vicious to Zev, not to all of them in equal measure.

Tom's awful mood hadn't lifted, at all, up until Minerva found them on the way to Hogsmeade and had been very gracefully welcomed in their company before Harry had even completed his greeting to her. She had agreed instantly, without even a hint of uneasiness, and ended chatting with Mione like they had become the best of friends.

Harry was naturally suspicious. Tom's welcoming wasn't completely faked, so what the hell had they talked about during the Quidditch game?  
“Calm down, hero, your Lioness is completely safe with us.” Tom voice ghosted to his ear.

“Oh really? Why am I not reassured?” Harry glared balefully, fighting the faint colour that had risen to his cheeks.

“You should be.” Tom accompanied his words with a faint nod. _He was serious._  
“Cat-girl is totally devoted to you, if you must know, I checked.”

Harry's eyes narrowed. It wasn't in Tom's nature to volunteer information. _Something way more was up_.  
“It must have been a very thorough check, you were chatting almost the whole match.”

Tom flashed him an unrepentant smile.  
“Of course not, golden boy, there were many more topics, but I'm not ready to share those yet.”

Harry shrugged, pretending indifference.  
“Alright, I'll ask Minnie if you prefer.”

Tom's smirk only grew.  
“Oh, I don't know, she's oath bound.”

Harry's blood started to burn in anger.  
“You had no right.”

Tom's expression turned deadly serious.  
“Don't I? When you have worked your way in equal footing to me with my own people, a bit unfair aren't you?”

Harry was stricken. He hated to admit it but Tom had a great deal of right, _yet._  
“Then you will tell me.”

The smile turned indulgent.  
“Of course I will...when I'm good and ready.”

Harry almost growled. But then he calmed, there was a third party. Even if Mione was oath bound she could never manage to be as unreadable as Tom.  
“As you wish.”

It was Tom's turn to look at him, narrow-eyed.  
“Do you expect me to buy that? You don't have to worry you will find out soon enough.”

Harry shrugged again but as a new thought crossed his mind a mischievous smile broke out across his lips.  
“It must be pretty damning for you to be so closed up. What could it be? You decided to leave Mione for Minerva? After all, it was Batman that dated Cat-woman not Robin.” he mocked gently.

Tom gawked at him in abject horror.  
“Don't you even _dare_ think something like that again, never mind speaking of it." a not so faked shudder of revulsion.  
"... _ever..._ ”

Harry couldn't help it, he burst out laughing.  
“Oh, I don't know, you two looked quite intimate nestled together in the Quidditch stands.”

Unfortunately Tom never stayed down. His smile epitomised that of a shark's.  
“Ah, as intimate as you normally are with dearest Minerva; judging from your antics in the game, don't you have some things to say as well?”

Harry gulped. He wanted to talk about that specific matter least of all. He had been doing his damnest to not think about it as well.  
Still, he stood his place...  
“I will happily do so if you tell me what you and Mione talked about with Minerva.”

Tom inclined his head in understanding and a modicum of respect.  
“As you wish, I will open that topic, again, then.” with a couple of swift strides he was near the girls, attention, at least visibly, directed at them.

Harry felt like fainting, but it wasn't relief. He hadn't won over Tom. At the very best it was a tie and that worried him even more as it proved that whatever Tom was hiding, it was well beyond anything he wished him to know. Also, the fact that Tom had opened the discussion even if, for once, he'd shown some consideration was making it adamantly clear that he had to deal with it. His friend wasn't going to show such restraint for a second time.

So, as Tom and Hermione left them for the bookstore that, unless something urgent happened, were going to be for hours and Alphard dragged a seemingly reluctant Minerva to Zonko's, Harry left Zev and Brax to their own devises and started wandering almost aimlessly around the village, trying to come in terms with himself before he was forced to.

Ever since he had met Tom friends, and random people even, had been accusing him of fancying him, of being gay. Harry had always refused it for all their closeness. He had no sexual feelings for his friend or was affected in any way by his looks.  
(Disregarding relief that he didn't look like Voldemort –Snake-face was pretty gross!)

Moreover, he had that kind of feelings for girls, even if they weren't that strong, what did he know-maybe he wasn't a very sexual kind of guy.

Even when – much to his surprise – he discovered that at the end he was pretty much gone for Tom (–a discovery that hit him first like a whisper and then like a punch to the stomach–) he wasn't that alarmed, a bit resigned maybe, but he was so invested already that it hardly made a difference. So nothing changed once again.

_This time it had._

Harry had to be honest, he had more than noticed Sam; he had gotten such a thrill from the other's admiration and their competition that his reaction, while almost nothing compared to what was binding him to Tom, was far stronger than his lukewarm response to Cho's dark beauty, or to any other girl. So, unless he had a thing for been challenged – which also seemed more than probable – he really was gay.

Harry wanted to hit his head against the nearest wall. He would have done much better without ever considering this possibility. If he couldn't (and shouldn't) have Tom in the way he had dreamt it, he was still counting in a family somewhere in the future. That was out of the question now; he wasn't a big bastard to do something like that to a woman.

Tom was going to have kittens. Normally, Harry could ignore his friend just fine, but he was fully aware of how damaging such a revelation could be to their campaign. He wasn't 'The Boy Who Lived' now, but even Harrison Evans wasn't a complete nobody and the times were much harsher than his own.

He couldn't do that to his friend.

Yet, the last thing he wanted was to spend his life holding a candle to his best friend. He deserved something of his own. But, even if he wanted to keep this quiet until he was ready to handle it, Tom had seen and understood enough to ask about it. The confrontation was coming. Harry was aware enough to know that only his oath was keeping Tom from feeding Sam to the basilisk.

_Salazar! This was such a mess and those Grindelwaldian bastards didn't even have the courtesy of attacking and sparing him of these thoughts._

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

 _These bastards_ were far from courteous.

His every instinct was insistent that there was going to be a battle, yet the hours passed with no sign of attack. Harry was puzzled but far from relaxed and when he found Tom again the frown on the other's face told him his worries were shared, without them having to exchange a word. Whatever was going to happen was going to be huge.

Even when they finally gathered for a latish lunch at the three broomsticks there was still no disturbance.

Leonard Potter was sitting alone with an elegant Lady, her appearance enough like Alphard's and a bit like the young man sitting beside her that he had no doubt for her identify, Dorea Potter nee Black, his great grandmother. Mother and son were talking intensely but as soon as they noticed his attention they transported that intensity into looking covertly at him. Harry immediately looked away.

He hadn't regretted saving Leonard's life and was going to do his damn hardest to make sure that every single member of that family got away from the war and the probable conflict with Dumbledore in the future unscratched, but he wasn't sure he could afford to even try becoming friends with his grandfather. Harry was a good liar, but not to the point of not creating ill afforded questions in contact with this family.

Even if by some twist of fate his true identify became known to them, they could never become his family, too much water over that bridge.

Imogen and Roger were also there with Sam, Apollonius and Amelia. They waved at him cheerily and beckoned; _Sam a bit enthusiastic for a simple acquaintance_ , still, Harry chose to ignore it, waved back and was ready to accept the invitation for the group when, from the corner of his eyes, he caught Tom's expression.

He was smiling charmingly and nodded in agreement, but there was enough poison in his eyes to be terrifying. Oath or not, he wasn't ready to trust him to sit at the same table with the Hufflepuff without causing him grievous harm, if not outright killing him. They sat at a safe distance and Madame Helen had barely brought their orders when multiple cracks of apparition began sounding outside. Harry's eyes met Tom's with the same anticipation. The party was starting.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Harry ducked again, covering Tom's attack and a second later releasing his own against the purple dressed wizards to his right. Most fell down, taken care of, but some managed to dodge and he used even stronger curses to take them out of commission.

He and Tom were moving constantly and spreading destruction on their way, staying almost untouched by the various dark curses, but their friends and co-students weren't that lucky. The sheer number of their opponents was almost overwhelming and they had sustained various injuries, but as they had each other's backs there weren't fatalities on their side.

Tom's last dregs of nasty mood had been utterly lifted with the melee. A savage smile was gracing his lips and he seemed to enjoy himself immensely. His magical energy crackled around him and he had wholly given himself to his task. Harry was again engrossed in his friend, their moves synchronised to something that went beyond instinct. But, instead of distracting him and opening him to an attack, their bond was keeping him even sharper and merely urging him to keep up with Tom and compete in their game of which one of them could manage the more enemies.

Nonetheless, Harry couldn't completely give himself to their competition, pleasurable though it was. While their friends were more than capable of holding their own, especially compared to what they were against, and slowly but surely were gaining the upper hand to the battle, the least experienced of their year mates had started having serious problems and the enemies were too many to give them room to leave. Instead he, Tom and the team were merely able to keep on constant alert for the worst opponents.

Still, that wasn't enough to save Sam from a nasty broken hand, thankfully not the wand one, or Roger from some mean cuts but what really got Harry's heart in his mouth was when he wasn't fast enough and Lady Potter had taken a very severe wound to the ribs for Leonard and the idiot let himself be completely uncovered as he was trying to find her shelter. Harry barely managed to distract a sumo wrestler lookalike wizard before blasting both of them.

 _That was about it. No more holding back._  
Harry had never been more thankful for the harder training in the chamber. His curses, if they were reported, were probably enough to sent them in Azkaban together with Grindelwald's followers, but he refused to allow for a single one of his friends or acquaintances to end up dead.

 **“** **It was time,** **”** Tom hissed to his ear and Harry growled. The bastard had let the decision at how illegally to go on him but it wasn't a game damnit...

Relatively soon with the vastly darker curses, the battle was pretty much over, but as the last enemy fell down Harry became aware of the oppressive atmosphere. There was a man leaning against one of the walls who had just now lifted his disillusionment. Grindelwald, the bastard, had watched them slaughter his men and hadn't lifted a finger to help them.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

_ **Tom's pov** _

Grindelwald clapped mockingly and approached out of the shadows.  
“Mein Gott! That was engaging, boys.”

Tom examined the Dark Lord in a flash. So this was Gellert Grindelwald, at least this time he wasn't disappointed.  
The wizard had presence alright; his pictures in the prophet didn't do him much justice, accentuating his stern handsome face and powerful build, but not even hinting at his imposing dark aura. Then again, nothing could do that. Tom barely suppressed a smirk.

 _This was indeed going to be a challenge_.

Moreover, the man didn't look a day older than forty – Harry's time forty, not now when even some wizards looked like old men. Tom idly wondered what he used to keep his youth and how long term it could be, but in the end it didn't matter. Grindelwald was going to die and sooner or later he was going to get his hands on his studies.

Tom couldn't care less how the German regarded his men, but Harry's eyes had flashed brilliantly, his hands clenched momentarily, well beyond anger. Assuming his friend didn't get dangerously worked up; things were going to get vastly entertaining.  
He wasn't disappointed.

“That was hardly intelligent.” Harry's tone was just the right blend between disdain and boredom with his anger remaining veiled and not giving anything away.

It was the perfect opening to drive a Dark Lord utter mad by challenging his position in such a blatant way, unfortunately, the German had better control than Voldemort and merely laughed.  
“You are too young to know of such things, merely a child.” Grindelwald's tone was both patronizing and condescending, but he didn't sound bothered in the least. He gave Harry a blatant once over, making quite apparent the things he assumed that he must knew.

Harry didn't flinch or react in any way.

Tom's eyes flashed, almost red, and swore –inside– that he was going to gouge the wizard's eyes out, by using his own, precious, wand among other tortures. Other than that he didn't react either. But it was time to up the game; Grindelwald wanted a chat after all.  
“It was certainly wasteful, especially for someone in your position, _sir_.”

The jab was all the more taunting by using the false honorific and Tom had the deep satisfaction of seeing a muscle jumping in Grindelwald's jaw. Still, that was the extent of his reaction and he smiled wolfishly in response.

“Ah, the young academic, Tom Marvolo Riddle, not even passed your NEWTs yet and you are already in the records as the best student ever passing Hogwarts, with a Defence thesis already under your belt...very intriguing one by the way... – I wonder how you would have done in Durmstrang?” the man flattered emptily without overtly paying any actual attention to Tom's words.

“I have considered meeting you for some time and if you weren't a halfblood I would have already arranged a brilliant future for you at my side.” he gave Tom a – _very_ _–_ appraising once over as well.

Tom felt like he was covered in slime and if he wasn't so disciplined, he may have reacted violently. It had been many years since he'd been under such a stare. He was more than used to be looked at with desire, but people knew much better now than dare look at him like a piece of meat.   
 _It was beyond sickening and the supposed Dark Lord was going to pay many_ _–_ _many_ _–_ _times before Tom allowed him to die._

Someone else would have been either elated from the Dark Lord's attention or terrified beyond their wits. Tom was merely bored. This talk had proved nothing to him except the German's decline of power. The information was outdated and could have been found in a good deal of public forums.

Not to mention that he could hardly gain their favour by disregarding them like that, he was losing in both counts. But the most blatant sign was his pegging Harry in the 'pet' slot. – _Couldn't he sense that their power was in equal footing?_ Grindelwald was so power drunk that his arrogance exceeded his intelligence; if they kept their cool this was going to be a piece of cake.

“You are playing a good game but you have already lost, maybe if you bothered with strategy – outside of your hormones – then things would have gone better.” Harry's tone was neutral but with a strong underline of menace.

Tom swore inside: he had spoken too soon. _Harry was just too Gryffindor sometimes!_

The magical flare and anger were immensely stronger than when Grindelwald had hit on him, he had also shifted a bit to get between them. They hardly needed to do the German the favour of letting him get under their skins. Yet, much to his surprise, Tom was more touched than irritated from the display. This was the first time in his life that someone bothered to protect his honour like that.

For now though they were the ones getting under the wizard's skin. Grindelwald had laughed mockingly but it was merely a masked choking. Tom smiled grimly; time to up the game once more.  
“Harry is right, you have lost. The European countries under your regime have regained their freedom, how long do you think it will be before you end up a prisoner or even dead?” he asked softly.

Grindelwald smiled arrogantly.  
“They are muggles, hardly worth my time, I have lost nothing.”

Harry let out a much undignified snort.  
“Keep telling yourself that. It's hardly half a year since Hiroshima and Nagasaki nuclear bombs can destroy wizards and magical places as easily and utterly as muggles. You probably condemned our future with the wars you started.”

Grindelwald appeared to be regarding Harry with much more respect than before.  
“Not if I destroy them first. Work with me and it will happen.” he addressed Tom. “Your pet is also intelligent not merely spirited and beautiful, you could be very lucky, except it won’t last. It never does.”

Tom was more amused this time than angry. If he judged, from the German's tastes and behaviour this was hardly surprising, but he was hardly going to say so. No matter what Grindelwald may think, it was way beneath a Lord to be so crass, and also it was rather revealing.

Grindelwald didn't seem to be bothered by their lack of reaction; he was examining both of them, stroking his beard.  
“Or maybe he is not the pet anymore? Maybe Tom Riddle is no longer the boss but Harrison Evans.” he smiled sardonically at Tom. “Were you so weak and emotional that you've given him your place without even understanding it?”

Tom almost laughed out loud. _This was Grindelwald's game?_

He had started being deeply doubtful of his intelligence, but this was consolation enough for his lost time. A couple of years back it could have stung –deeply– now it hardly touched him.

 _It seemed that Grindelwald was worth his salt as Dark Lord after all_...

A faint feeling of concern touched his consciousness. Harry was a bit more affected and worried for his reaction. _Oh for crying out loud_. Tom relaxed his mental shields and projected the equivalent of rolling eyes. Harry relaxed.  
 _Time to finish this._

“Or maybe you have no idea of what we have and hit blindly out of spite. Fight us or leave, but stop wasting our time.”

Grindelwald's eyes bulged with the first dismissal, but then Harry added insult to injury.  
“You are a Dark Lord for Salazar's sake couldn't you do something grander than hitting on two teenagers that could be your grandsons? Blond curls are so outdated.”

Grindelwald snarled like a wounded animal. The illusion of his flawless face shattering; it was merely a strong glamour. _What a pity!  
_ The strength of his curse was enough to knock them back a few metres; thankfully they had built shields during the course of their tedious talk. After that Tom didn't have time for conscious thoughts. He was too busy trying to stay alive.

They moved all the time to give less of a target but the man was blindingly fast. Tom could admit without shame that Grindelwald was the strongest opponent he had ever faced – it was all due to his wand of course, and if he was without it Tom estimated him not much better than him or Harry, just more knowledgeable.

_That wand was the something else!_

Dumbledore had never used it to its full potential or even used it the way it was being used now, that much he could tell. It was only due to the fact that there were two of them that allowed them to get away with their lives on numerous occasions. They shielded each other as they were casting, but they were already hurt in many ways, although to his deep satisfaction so was Grindelwald.

This continued for some time, with Tom and Harry using almost everything in their arsenal, which was doing some considerable damage but not enough to destroy the Dark Lord. Grindelwald did the same and it was obvious that he was growing frustrated when he didn't manage victory either. It was a race now to see who would fall first due to blood loss, among other things.

Growing tired of it, Tom started firing killing curses to force the other to back off a bit and give them some breathing space.  
Grindelwald dodged and retaliated with something incredibly fast that sounded like: “Verrotte.”

He would have dodged it but he tripped on a body, and then Harry shoved him away, but put himself on target. Tom barely managed to pull him on him and out of the way before the next curse hit the both of them. A short but very intense earthquake followed. Harry had used his own elder wand to shield the last curse. Tom swore under his breath; they were alive but it could have easily ended like Hiroshima.

They were on their feet in a second. Grindelwald had been hit the most by the backslash of both wands and was on his knees, trembling.  
Tom and Harry raised their wands to finish him off.  
But then Dumbledore apparated.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

_ **Harry's pov** _

Harry watched in mute disbelief as Dumbledore, instead of attacking, after apparating – conveniently right in front of them and cutting the direct target-line – started exchanging pleasantries.  
“Gellert, long time no see.”

The German, making what looked like a superhuman effort, stood on his trembling feet.  
“Albus, it has been too long, how are you?”

“I have been doing good, teaching like I dreamt to.”

“I'm glad for you; I have been doing as I wished too, well except for today.”  
The surrealistic feeling wasn't abating, Harry wondered if he was going crazy, because it sounded to him like the blond Dark Lord was pouting.

 _...And Dumbledore, had he lost it?  
_ The same man that had targeted Tom, on principle alone, this time, and had come to the point of murder on his own, was now almost flirting like he had met his old friend on a stroll in Diagon alley.

“Those were Messrs Riddle and Evans, together with Miss Hermione Granger, Hogwarts' best students.”

Harry's temper snapped; Dumbledore wasn't just flirting he had cold out given Hermione's name to the old lecher.  
 _He was going to kill him, again, and not regret it in the slightest this time!_

A sharp, almost excruciating, pain brought him to the now. Tom had dislocated his wrist.  
A look to his grim face was all it took to remember their predicament. They were the only ones close enough to hear the discussion, if they dared to attack now they were only going to dig their own grave. Hermione's name dropping was merely the blackmail to keep them silent.

Grindelwald confirmed that.  
“I never had the pleasure of meeting Miss Granger, perhaps another time?”

“Gellert surrender, you know that you can't win.” Dumbledore sounded almost like he was pleading.

“Not this time, old friend.” Grindelwald said, equally regretful then disapparated.

Harry was a step before laughing hysterically. _Typical!_ He wasn't even the slightest bit surprised that Grindelwald was only biding his time until he was strong enough to disapparate...  
 _A_ _nd why in Merlin's name there wasn't there a single Auror in sight?_

Still, he wasn't afraid that Dumbledore would try anything on them, at least not now, for the same single reason that that they couldn't attack him – too many witnesses. Later, when they would be alone and vulnerable, it was a completely different matter and one that was more to the headmaster/transfiguration professor's style, but for now they were completely safe.

Harry turned his head and smiled at Tom. _Safe! They were safe!_

They survived another obstacle and they were together, alive and well. Tom's lips twitched and then smiled too, honestly happy and a little bit drunk at being alive and victorious. Regardless of Dumbledore's interference they were victorious. At that moment in time they were happy and highly content.

Suddenly the adrenaline left his body and everything started spinning like crazy as he became aware that he hurt – _everywhere_ –in various degrees. The only thing holding him steady was Tom, who looked just as bad and was likewise steadying himself on Harry. Just as he was sure that was going to fall anyway their friends were around them and they were lowered in soft floating stretchers. Feeling a hundred times better merely by being reclined he sent a soft, dopey smile at Tom.

“We did it; we survived Grindelwald, next time we are going to take him down for good!”

But Tom didn't look content any more. He was scowling darkly; the bruises and scratches on his face making his glare look even more intimidating.  
“Indeed we did, but next time don't you even think about getting in front of me because some old coot needs blinding, or decide to take a curse for me, **or even worse, play with time and space**. **”** he hissed the last part _._

 **“** **Hey, it saved our lives,** **”** Harry returned, defensively.

 **“** **Yes,** **”** Tom answered, looking truly angry now. **“But if there is a next time I would prefer to study if a magical time bomb is equal to or surpassing a nuclear bomb in a safe environment, not on a battlefield.”**

“There will be no such experiment,” Harry snapped. The last thing he needed was Tom getting such ideas.

“Hero relax .” Tom sounded almost half asleep now, and Harry indeed relaxed. He could feel his friend's emotions and he was just as scared if not more so from what could happen. There weren't going to be any experiments.

But then he remembered Tom's other complaints and groaned. He was going to the white prison with Tom for Salazar's knew how many days...there was no way to get away from Tom's bitching. Even if he kept his occlumency barriers as high as it got there was nothing that could stop him from using parseltongue, too low to register even in a silent room, except if there was a snake present to draw attention.  
He groaned a second time. _Crap, crap, crap..._

A low laugh was heard above him.  
Abraxas' looked a right mess, like the rest of them, but at least he could walk.  
“What?” he growled, the sound of his own voice making his headache that much worse.

“I'm just amazed that you two manage to bicker even like this.”

“You need a life,” Harry mumbled, finally close to sleep.

“Hey, don't sleep now, you may have a concussion.” Brax was almost panicked.

Harry opened one bleary eye.  
“No concussion, check Tom.”

But Abraxas was persistent.  
“Harry, what do you have against blonds?”

Harry wanted to curse him, but he didn't have the energy.  
“Nothing, just messing with old blond.” he told the truth to end things.

“Ahhh.”

There was such relief to his vain friend that Harry found it crazily funny.  
“Don't worry,” he told Brax with the last of his energy, “You're not blond but platinum, you will never get outdated – just wait a few years for Marilyn.”

“Marilyn, who's Marilyn?” Abraxas asked, but Harry never answered, his eyelids were weighing a ton. He fell asleep.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS Edited at 10/07/2014  
> Please review to inspire me for more...  
> PPS My dearest friend AthdaraSeleya fixed the German curse and has my deepest thanks:DDD  
> (it means 'To rot')


	4. The Confrontation.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where at the hospital wing, they have no choice but to face each other, will they speak truth though?

 

**Chapter Four: Confrontation**

_ **Harry's pov (continuation)** _

Harry had woken a few times, but every time Madame Wilson had made him drink a calming drawn and he'd fallen back asleep. Finally, he awoke completely to the heavy taste of cotton wool and half raised a warning hand to avoid another dose.

Madame Wilson chuckled softly.  
“Don't worry young man, I don't plan to force you sleep again.”

Harry let out a relieved sigh.  
“Tom?” he asked. He could barely feel their link and that worried him deeply.

Madame Wilson's face softened even more, taking a mothering expression. Immediately, she opened the curtains of the next bed. Tom was sleeping soundly, looking exhausted and really worse the wear.

Harry's heart stuttered.  
“Why does he still look that bad? How long have we been here?”

Madame Wilson expression turned calculating.

“You have been here for about a little more than twelve hours and your friend wouldn't be in such a state if he hadn't fought against going to St Mungo's, or even Poppy's attempts to make him sleep, which would have helped cure him as he wanted to be sure you would make it. It was touch and go for a few hours; I wonder where he found the flare of strength. From what I heard it was one battle after another for most of yesterday...”

But, Harry had stopped hearing her... Tom had jeopardized his own health for no apparent gain than simply the knowledge that he had made it...he wasn't sure if he believed it even if he had something of a proof... or even what he felt about it, only that he could hardly breathe.  
“Tom waited for me..?” he asked, knowing he sounded like a lost boy.

Madame Wilson's eyes widened.  
“Have you lost it boy? I just told you that you almost died yesterday and you only care about Riddle?”

“I almost died?” Harry was confused; maybe he was too used to risking his life, but he didn't see how yesterday was any different to another day. Tom had been in danger too, why wasn't she fussing over him? They had more or less the same wounds.

“You haven't heard a thing? This was nothing like the usual stunts you and Riddle normally pull... with your crazy luck you got hit right on your appendicitis. In the time it took to bring you here it had inflamed to fully fledged peritonitis... –five minutes later it would have been too late– ...as it was, I spend half the night flushing toxins out of your system... and that was only the tip of the iceberg of your injuries...”

“Oh,” was the only thing that Harry could say faced with the healer's wrath.  
“What else Madame?” he asked, both wanting to know and to placate her.

“You had a bruised kidney, broken shoulder blade, seven shattered ribs, and an almost shredded tendon on your left shoulder, numerous fractures which would take an hour to recite if I were to name them all, extended bruising on your upper body and numerous lesions of course. Ah, and a dislocated wrist, that was the largest damaged bone you had.”

Harry almost whistled, _it certainly sounded nasty._  
“And Tom?” he questioned.

“Your friend had a hairline fracture but thankfully no concussion, five broken ribs, a lightly punctured lung, broken collarbone, ruptured spleen, a fractured disk to the middle of his back, lesions to his whole body and a gush to his stomach.”

Harry was certain that his hair would have been standing up with horror, if it wasn't already naturally inclined that way.  
 _Too close, too damn close... Shiiit!!!  ..._ Still the last bit of information made him verbally explode...   
“Such a gush to his stomach could have been just as deadly as my peritonitis.” he gritted out.

Madame Wilson glared imperiously.

“Why do you think that I wanted to send him at St Mungo's? Poppy has a full qualification, and in a couple of years she is going to take my place, but there was too much damage to take care of at once. I sent over everyone that didn't need immediate help.” she glared until he was looking at her with the same attentive respect like before.

“Now, the whole school calls what you two did yesterday heroic and I don't doubt it, but for the last two years and a half I have treated you a thousand times... and Merlin knows how many times you didn't come here after a _training session.”_ a near hiss even without parseltongue. _  
_“You two are addicted to danger and if you don't control it somewhat you are going to end up dead. Heed my words, else the next time you end up here I'm going to recommend counselling at St Mungo's... and yes, I mean you too Mr Riddle.”

Harry instantly forgot the healer's rant.  
He took in his friend's face, examining every small contour. Yeah, he looked tired and was probably a mess, but he was going to be alright.  
He smiled with all his heart, though his face hurt.

Tom examined him twice as intently and then smiled charmingly at the healer.  
“We only did our duty Madame; surely it can't be that bad, yes? We'll try to stay out of trouble, I promise.”

Madame Wilson hmmped.  
  
“Don't try to sweet talk me, child – I am old enough to be your grandmother. Now, try to relax a bit, I'm going to order a house elf to bring you beef broth. I did my best with your broken bones, but some were too damaged to last so Poppy is going to vanish them in an hour and provide skele-gro.”

Then she left them, just like that.

Tom returned his attention at Harry without saying a single word. Harry wanted to say many things, mostly to ask why he was so worried,  
as -in the very end- he had the Horcrux. Instead he asked the first thing that popped to his mind.  
“Is Madame Wilson related to Zevi? I could swear that was a female Snape berating us!”

Tom didn't deign to show even the slightest pretence of curiosity.  
“I couldn't care less, ask him.”

Harry's eyes narrowed; this was sounding more sharp than simply disinterested.  
“Are you alright? Maybe you should have asked for a pain reliever.”

Tom sent him a scathing glare.  
“I -unlike a specific golden boy- don't have a martyr complex – had I needed one I would have asked.”

Harry smirked.  
“Wow, someone woke on the wrong side of the bed,” he teased, but then he remembered why and his smile slipped.  
“Sorry.”

Tom's glare only increased.  
“Cut it; and it better not even cross your mind to thank me.”

Harry's brow furrowed.  
“Why? What you did...” his voice broke.

Tom looked like he was searching for patience.  
“If you had had full use of your facilities you would already knew. I suggest you find your bearings immediately.”

Harry grumbled – he was still a bit too disoriented for such deep thoughts, but it was better than merely contemplating the white prison and for how bloody long he was going to stay in the vicinity.  
 _Well, he had the Horcrux. But that could be used only to bring him back to life, if need be, not protect him from a deadly curse._

**“Out loud.”**

Harry merely raised an eyebrow at the parseltongue. Whatever else it may say, Tom must have been really spooked yesterday.  
 **“** **You wanted to avoid using more power than necessary for cover up if things got hairy.”**

Tom shook his head in mock regret.  
 **“** **I should have let you rest more, you only got half.”**

Harry rolled his eyes.  
 **“** **If you mean Dumbledore, I'm seriously tempted to hit you with my pillow.”**

Tom yawned.  
 **“** **Was that supposed to be a threat, sweetheart?”**

 **“** **No,”** Harry smirked. **“** **But if you continue act so childishly I should react accordingly.”**

 **“** **Childishly!”** Tom's furious hiss raised the hairs at Harry's arms, it was that angry.  
 **“Have you forgotten what happened the last time he found us vulnerable and alone in the hospital wing?”**

Harry shivered with horror at the recollection. _No, he hadn't forgotten and that memory was one of his returning nightmares._

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

_{To wake up in the middle of the night to Dumbledore with the usual twinkle in his eyes, (all the more terrifying for it) pointing his wand at a defenceless, sleeping, Tom, with the first word of the killing curse..._

_He was still incapable to recall with which curse he had defended his friend, maybe it wasn't even a curse at all, but raw power.  
The only thing he knew for sure was that Dumbledore ended up dying at the feet of his bed and he had followed suit, due to extreme magical exhaustion. Tom had barely managed to wake in time, due to the clamour, and sever their life-force connection to prevent his own death too._

_To this day he was blaming Dumbledore, to the most part, for ending in the past._

_Tom never hid his intentions, yet Harry believed that even with Voldemort dead there was a fair chance that he could have convinced his friend to send a Doppelgänger to the past, like the others later confessed they had wanted, but he was never given the chance...}_

* * *

~*~

* * *

  **“** **No, I hadn't forgotten and never will,”** Harry answered hoarsely even for Parseltongue, shocked by the vast hate to Dumbledore held in his soul, almost unnoticed.

 **“** **But I doubt he holds such hate for us, yet, to dare attack us with the healers present. He is the Lord of the Light after all; he needs his self-delusions.”** he took a long calming breath and continued, far more composedly.

**“ **I also doubt that the others would have left us defenceless: I'm pretty sure that at least some of them would have guarded the door and created commotion at the first sign of trouble.”****

Tom merely raised an eyebrow at his fervour.  
 **“** **I wouldn't be too sure after his performance yesterday. Maybe you are right, maybe not, but I prefer to hold our safety in my own hands...”**

 **“** **Paranoid git!”** was Harry's answer, but his voice was fond.

“Your argument wasn't completely illogical,” Tom conceded reluctantly the point.  
“At least, compared to some of your actions yesterday...”

Harry was affronted.  
“Hey, I don't recall doing anything unreasonable, yesterday!”

Tom ignored his reaction.  
“I can name more than a few. That you had a _single_ point, or even your reasons for some of those actions, doesn't mean I'm not still angry with you.”

Harry rolled his eyes again, _it figured._  
“I expected as much.” he shifted his pillow a bit and relaxed, preparing for a long lecture...

It wasn't to be...

Both of them heard muffed laughter and immediately started searching for their wands in precaution. Tom found his in a second, under his pillow, but Harry wasn't that lucky, which resulted in some very creative swear words and another of Tom's heated glares. He didn't care, if his wand wasn't around here he was very much in trouble and he wasn't even sure that he commanded his power enough to summon it.

Madame, or more precisely, Miss Pomfrey, entered the room levitating two trays. This version, at twenty four – while still exceptionally skilled at her work – allowed, from time to time, her sense of humour, (that long years on the job and professionalism had muted on the older one) to show up. - _Specifically when her mentor wasn't in the vicinity._

Most of the time Harry appreciated the difference, but not so much today as the healer approached, scarcely keeping her laughter at bay.  
“My, my, can't you two stop arguing for a moment?” she questioned teasingly.

“It's all part of friendship, Miss.” Tom answered smoothly, as a part of his model student act.

Harry rather doubted that Pomfrey would have appreciated his friend's honest reaction, which was probably to tell her to mind her own business in the most final, withering way. Not that he himself appreciated her comments; it was different when it was coming from one of their close friends.

Still Pomfrey was always Pomfrey, no matter her age, and so she ignored Tom's innocent act and merely sent the trays to their bedside tables. Unfortunately, that finished, she focused on him again.  
“And you, Harry, what kind of language were that? I expected much better.”

She was only half joking, her mirthful eyes were testament to that, but it stung somehow and Harry found himself blushing, ashamed.  
“I tell him that all the time,” Tom put in, supposedly helpfully. Harry shot him a dirty look.

 _Seriously, could he not bear a moment not being centre of attention?_  
Harry was going to make him pay for that someway, during their next training session at the latest.  
“I was looking for my wand,” he confessed sheepishly.

Pomfrey tapped her fingers on her lips.  
“Oh, then it's my mistake. Minerva told me to keep it safe for you.”

She pulled it out from her sleeve and threw it deftly at him. Harry's honed seeker reflexes had him grabbing it in the air instead of simply letting it fell beside him, and Poppy's eyes lit up in admiration. _Sometimes it paid to have a young healer that loved Quidditch._

But then the healer part gained dominance and she started scolding.  
“What do you think you were doing?! Your skin is barely healed, never mind how tender your organs still are.” a pause” “– You could have done serious damage to yourself!”

Harry felt twice the idiot.  
“It was instinctual, I wasn't thinking, sorry.”

He ignored Tom's mutterings of “What else is new?” instead staying completely still as Miss Pomfrey drew her own wand and examined him diligently. Only after completing the examination did the healer allowed her face to relax.   
“No further damage has been done; also you have my sincere apology. My action was careless and unprofessional.”

Harry, relaxed now that he knew that he wasn't going to be confined even more to the white hell due to his own foolishness, smiled.  
“Nah, it was my stupidity. Thanks, by the way, had I known you had it I wouldn't have worried.”

Poppy smiled, showing two dimples. – _A_ _nd who would have thought Madame Pomfrey had dimples_ .  
“No harm done.”

“When are you going to do the treatment Madame?” Tom asked, supposedly in earnest innocence, however Harry could hear the inpatient order in his voice.  
 _Seriously, what was wrong with him? He should have asked for a painkiller._

Pomfrey became professional again.

“It wouldn't be advisable to do it if you are full, but it also wouldn't be healthy to leave you with an empty stomach for too many hours after your ordeal, so we'll have to wait an hour or so for you to digest.” after saying that her expression brightened again as she continued.  
“Your friends are out, waiting for news, do you want to see them for a while as you are not in serious pain yet? Madame Wilson didn't agree but neither actively discouraged it. It's up to you boys.”

Harry's face broke in a delighted smile.  
“Yes please,” he said enthusiastically, after a second thought expecting Tom to rain on his parade as he obviously didn't feel at his best. But he hadn't calculated his friend's determination when he had something to gain.

“That would be very appreciated Madame,” Tom said, pulling an almost sincere smile.

Poppy left to fetch the others and Harry glared daggers at the teen Dark Lord.  
“You are so going to ask for a potion, what's wrong with you? You are never that rude to a possible ally, unless is already long hooked.”

Tom glared right back.  
“I'm very disappointed in her bedside manner; she is a very long way from her expected level of competence.”

“Hey there's nothing wrong with her bedside manner,” Harry hotly defended the healer.

Tom raised an eyebrow.  
“Then what will you call her schoolgirl giggling, the sheer stupidity of throwing your wand like that, or even her flirting, sweetheart?” he pointed insistently.

Harry was too horrified for words.  
“Shut up, or switch, she's going to hear you.”

Tom lowered his voice a bit but continued.  
“Maybe I wanted her to hear me?” he taunted.

“No, you didn't.” Harry was certain. “Else you would have already flayed her alive. And what is that crap about flirting? She is merely a Quidditch fan,” he protested.

Tom tsked.  
“Language.”

Harry smirked.  
“Stalling?”

Tom merely smirked back.  
“You can't be that naive.”

Harry was insistent.  
“She is Madame Pomfrey; she can't be flirting with me.”

Now both Tom's eyebrows were up, clearly asking what was his point.  
“The first incarnation of me you met was Gramps, yet, you are my best friend. Dearest Minerva was your head of house and yet, here she is, also your ex-girlfriend.”

Harry, to his total embarrassment, was forced to explain.  
“Madame Pomfrey can't be flirting with me; she has seen me naked too many times.”

Tom totally lost it. He threw his head back, laughing until tears were running from his eyes, completing the mess that was his face. Still, as the mortification slowly left Harry he became aware of something else and the warm glow intensified at his chest.  
 _Tom had been jealous._

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

But, before he could enjoy his realisation or even be stupid enough to comment on it to Tom there was something, like a comet, bursting into the room. He found himself with an armful of Hermione.  
“Oh Harry, I was so worried. Thank God and Merlin and whatever you want that you are okay,” she babbled.

She took his face in her hands, like she wanted to assure herself that he was alright. Harry's heart expanded again.  
“I'm alright, Herm, truly,” he assured her gently.

After she was satisfied from what she read on his face she hugged him once again, pulling the final stuffing out of him, and was then up like a shot, repeating the whole process on Tom.

Harry could swear he saw actual panic on Tom's face for a moment.

But Tom was still Tom, the emotion didn't last more than a second. He relaxed and instead of releasing her, like Harry expected, cupped her face and gave her a rather heated kiss.

The bite of jealousy was sharp and painful but Harry wasn't blinded from it enough to miss that Hermione stiffened imperceptibly before responding. That, and Tom's previous hesitation, was enough to indicate that something was at the very least suspicious. That belief was only fortified by the others' reaction to the scene. Whilst Alphard and Brax's shock was simply due to the semi-public display of affection and even Zev's was excusable, Minerva's reaction was something exceptional. Although his cattish friend was Gryffindor and held strong opinions on his relationship with Tom, nothing in said opinions was enough to provide such a look of disquiet from the mere sight of a couple kissing.  
Harry was going to get to the bottom of this...

“Hi guys,” he greeted cheerily, masking his unease.

The others followed his example acting like they didn't see anything exceptional and greeted back. Minerva was even mock glaring for effect.  
“So I'm one of the guys, Harry?”

 _How to answer to that one?_  
“Well,” he said, grateful for the distraction, “yes and no.”

Minerva smiled.  
“Don't worry; I won't have you elaborate on that one, here.”

He relaxed with her teasing and finally Tom seemed to have had enough of proving his point. But, instead of releasing her, he kept Hermione sitting on his bed with an arm around her, looking at his most possessive. Harry's instinct was screaming that the whole display was mostly theatre.

Tom didn't bother with greetings.  
“What happened in the last twelve hours?” his voice was soft, but it was an order. He put some privacy wards up.

Harry's brow furrowed. This was only a bare step before the strict 'Report' he should have expected, had they been alone with the guys and Mione. Tom wasn't wasting but the tiniest bit of courtesy on Minnie's behalf...  
 _What the hell had they talked about in the Quidditch game?_

Strangely, it was also Minnie that started explaining.

“The aurors examined the battlefield late the evening. While there was an excess of dark magic it was too messed up to make out where it came from, or even which curses were used. The state of the bodies after Grindelwald's attack helped in that.” a tiny pause.  
“Tom, Harry, you are not completely off the hook yet. You will probably get asked for questioning in the ministry at the start of the holidays, but it will not be as suspects for the kind of curses that could send you to Azkaban.”

Harry was quite relieved. He didn't regret anything, but, now that the adrenalin was down, the last thing he wanted was to end up in Azkaban and take his friends with him. Still, something was bothering him.

Tom expressed it first with a frown.  
“What about witnesses? There must be at least some of them.”

Minerva waved him off but Tom's frown only deepened. Harry took it from there.  
“The ministry is worthless; no disagreement there, but still, something must have been reported?” he swore inside. Harry loathed obliviating people, but none of them were going to Azkaban.

“No need,” Alphard answered, “The town's people told the ministry where to shove it.”

“Alphard!” Both Mione and Minerva cried together. Minnie also added a very sharp elbow to the mix, if Alphard's wince was anything to judge by.

“There are ladies present,” Tom chided. “Get to the point,” he added impatiently, but with some amusement as well.

“We have all been questioned by the Aurors, but Minerva and Hermione were the only true witnesses from our party to the inner dispute and, from what I gathered, only Minerva to the most interesting part,” Abraxas added smoothly.

_That was one explanation for Minerva's presence here, friend or not._

Tom's arm tightened around Hermione.  
“Care to share, dear heart?”

Hermione blushed a bit but her voice was steady.

“We were lucky that Samuel Diggory was with us. Minister McLaggan was too busy to personally check the scene and consequently sent his Undersecretary, George Diggory, to do it for him. Mr Diggory's only real concern was if his son was alright and when he heard that he fought with us and Harry saved his life he didn't even bother to ask what curses were used. He finished the interrogations post haste and he all but hit Dumbledore when the latter suggested priori incantatem – 'just to be on the safe side,' as he put it.”

Harry was embarrassed and he certainly didn't remember saving Sam's life. Suddenly he froze, the missing wand taking a very sinister meaning.  
Thankfully his priori and a fast check showed that no one had tempered with his wand.

Minerva looked like she was ready to cry.  
“I'm terribly sorry Harry; I tried to prevent something bad from happening.”

Harry was puzzled by her extreme reaction, but he didn't read anything deceitful in her face, eyes or voice. Granted, Minerva was the farthest person from hysterical, but it could have been a complete disaster. He let the matter go, for now, and sent her a reassuring smile.  
“It's okay Minnie, nothing happened.”

“Great work Minerva, anything else that we need to hear?”  
There was deep mockery to Tom's tone, naturally, but amazingly so, no solid distrust. This was no acting; from what Harry could read, as far as Tom was concerned, Minerva was one of theirs. Whatever happened at the game must have solidified her changing sides for good.

Tom's intense attention was certainly making the transfiguration's assistant very uncomfortable. She coloured and faltered, for a second, under his scrutiny, but after an awkward cough she started speaking.

“After the ministry workers left Dumbledore asked the Headmaster to call a staff meeting. Dippet agreed to his wish and after everyone gathered Dumbledore started stirring things again by essentially expressing his worry that no matter what the ministry was saying there was no way that you two could have saved the school without using really dark arts and called his brother Aberforth and me as his witnesses." a breath.  
"Aberforth used even more colourful language than Alphard, but in essence he told his brother that if he was incapable to take care of the murderer of their sister out of his feelings the least he could do was to leave those who could free to do so.” Minerva's tone was lightly gleeful at the last part, but also more than a little enquiring, if her questioning glances around was saying something.

Harry had a feeling she understood just fine but she wasn't ready to believe it. Changed sides or not, somewhere inside it still hurt.  
He squeezed her hand.  
“I will explain later.”

“You left something in the middle.” Tom's voice was mild but Harry felt the tension to his bones.  
Minerva gained a look of deep apprehension, but then she raised her head and continued bravely, like the Gryffindor she was.

“I told them that I didn't know what they were talking about, what dark arts? I saw nothing like that and certainly nothing illegal. Headmaster Dippet and the other professors believed me.” she hesitated for a second, closing her eyes. There was a quiet despair when she opened them.  
“Afterwards Dumbledore told me that we both needed to consider if I was to continue my apprenticeship.” she didn't need to say anything else.

“I'm really sorry Minnie; it's all my fault...” Harry tried, the words nowhere near enough to express how bad he felt.

“Stop it, you stupid,” Minerva snarled. “It's certainly not your fault. I chose to fight and hide your skins. If I lose my job, so be it...” her voice broke a bit to the last part.

Alphard immediately hugged her tenderly.  
“Oh baby, I'm so sorry. When I graduate at the summer we are going to marry, I promise. I know it's not the same like having a career but as Lady Black you won't miss on anything, I swear.”

Minerva relaxed minutely in his arms.  
“I haven't even agreed on dating you, yet, Alphard,” was all she said. But it lacked bite.

“But you will, won't you?” the joker's tone was an alarming mix between confidence and pleading.

Harry closed his eyes tightly. Minerva was so brave but he knew perfectly well what he had done. He had chosen consciously to cultivate his association with the young version of his professor. More, that news should have been anticipated logically, but somehow it caught him completely in the dark.

_It was entirely his fault, he, alone, had cost Minnie her beloved job and subsequently her independence. Worse was that at this time and age it was going to be bloody difficult, if not impossible, for her to acquire another one – never mind to something equal. Worst of all, he completely lacked the means to help, personally, in any way._

“Hero, drop the pity party.” Tom.  
Harry glared heatedly. This wasn't a pity party, it concerned far more than his failings; it was the life of another person, a close friend. But what he saw made his breath catch in his throat.

There was something in Tom's face. While it was controlled like usually, its lines seemed illuminated in sharp relief. He looked at Minerva beyond intensely with something that whereas undetermined, promised nothing good. Worse, there was a variation of that expression upon Mione and Zevi's faces.

There was only one explanation for that and it really pissed him off. (But it also gave his anger and self hate a much needed outlet.)  
“What's wrong with you people?” he shouted. “The woman got in deep shit saving our bacon and you look at her like she betrayed us! I've got news; if that was the case we'd already be in Azkaban. What next? To tell her it is her fault and problem?”

Every eye was on him, shocked. Minerva looked like she wanted to be swallowed by the earth, but Harry didn't regret his words. Even if he had mistaken the looks they needed to be shaken a bit on the severity of the problem.

“Oh Harry,” Hermione started, obviously expecting an explanation for his outburst, but for the moment Harry ignored her. He had his eyes trained on Tom's darkened ones and waited for his own explanation. He didn't have to wait for long.

“I will overlook the tone and deplorable language, due to your tension from the hospital, for now. You are not off the hook.” Tom stated.  
“If I believed even for a second that Minerva betrayed us I would have already punished her, severely, I'm more than capable of that, even right now. If you so desperately want to know my thoughts, I was merely contemplating out ways to help her; she is one of ours now.”

Harry gulped under that burning gaze. He knew that most, if not everything, Tom told him was the truth.  
It didn't matter now when Minerva had become 'one of ours', as his friend put it. It only mattered that she was. The Teen Dark Lord may not care about people in general, or even in particular, with very few exceptions, but he acknowledged loyalty and even rewarded it.

He was going to find a way to help him fix that mess.  
“I'm sorry for going immediately to the worst conclusion, not that you haven't given me ample reason for that.” Harry apologised – but couldn't help a small dig.

Tom smirked at that and nodded. At least that one was solved.

Brax coughed delicately.  
“If I may, I think I have a solution to Miss McGonagall's problem.” Tom nodded imperiously for him to continue but before Brax could make his suggestion Miss Pomfrey walked in looking furious.

“What was that shouting? I allowed your friends inside, bending the rules I might add, and you are acting like barbarians! You may be the only patients for now but this is an infirmary for Merlin's sake...” she crossed her arms over her chest, glaring daggers, and finished her rant making a truly fearsome figure.

 _Oh yes,_ this was the Pomfrey which Harry was so well acquainted. He sighed. Tom had supposedly covered the privacy ward yet here she was damn it... next time he was going to cast it himself... for now.  
“I'm truly sorry Miss Pomfrey, it won't happen again.”

Madame Pomfrey hmmped, (at this moment she indeed looked like a Madame).  
“See that it won't, I'm very disappointed in you.”

Harry glared at Tom; it was his fault and here he was playing innocent.

Minerva tried to take some of the weight.  
“It was my fault too Poppy.”

Pomfrey smiled.

“Nonsense, my friend, I didn't hear your voice after all, they are just boys and so... immature.” she said it looking more at Harry than anyone else but if it was a dig he ignored it. But then her eyes fell on their full plates and flashed.  
“What is that? I left you in your own devices so you could eat and be ready for treatment but, obviously, you were too distracted. Out everyone.”

The last part was a sharp order.

The guys and Hermione got on their feet but Harry wanted to address the Minerva problem first.  
“Please Miss Pomfrey a little while yet.”

Pomfrey looked undecided but then Tom had the brilliant idea to open his mouth.  
“A little bit more, Madame, there are some problems that need addressing and Harry was kind of a little distracted, perhaps he wanted to spend more time in the hospital wing.”

_Harry was going to kill Tom in the slowest, most painful, way.  
_

But it was effective.  
Miss Pomfrey, blushed scarlet, ordered a brisk, “Five minutes.” and was out of the door like a shot.

Harry allowed himself to explode.  
 **“** **What the hell was that?”**

Tom smirked.  
 **“** **I fixed the problem and made you a nice favour too.”**

Harry rolled his eyes.  
 **“** **Salazar help me from your favours! I don't even know where you get such ideas.”**

Tom played the offended party.  
 **“** **And what about your weakness to older women? You may complain but it's obvious that you have a thing for your previously mother like figures. I'm merely helping you to get it over as soon as possible.”**

Harry's eyes bulged, that was getting so beyond play. _Tom really wanted to spend more time in the hospital wing._

But before he could curse the shit out of him Hermione snapped, sharp as a whip.  
“Guys.” they both turned their attention to her, Hermione paling under their glares.  
“Madame Pomfrey said five minutes,” she reminded carefully.

 _Right, Minerva.  
_ “If you don't mind continuing Brax.”

Brax looked weird, like he had lost half his presentation, but shrugged and started again.  
“Two things, we can either ask the support of the board of governors or, Miss McGonagall, you could start working as tutor. My family and I will be more than glad to recommend you.”

Minerva looked at Brax like she was truly surprised at how thoughtful his offer was.  
“Thank you Mr Malfoy I really appreciate it,” she smiled gratefully. “I may take you up to that.”

Abraxas smiled, genuinely looking glad he helped.  
“Brax please, that is how my most Gryffindorish friends address me. The offer stands even if you marry that clown here,” he nodded at Alphard, “Transfiguration is such a notoriously difficult subject.”

“Thank you Brax, my name is Minerva,” she answered.

“Hey don't flirt with my girlfriend,” Alphard was only half joking. Everyone laughed and Harry was gratified to see Minerva squeezing Alphard's hand, so no problem there.

“If it's a transfigurations master/teacher the career you want, is it necessary to be at Hogwarts?” Zevi's soft voice restarted the matter.  
“If you are not so particular, my mother's ex mistress at Beauxbatons, Madame Devereaux, is seeking an assistant.”

Minerva's eyes got round at the second offer.  
“Oh, I never expected something like that, thank you, I really must think on what is best.”

Tom stretched like a cat.  
“I wouldn't worry too much if I was in your place, for all you know Dumbledore may not be teaching next year and they will need a new transfiguration teacher.”

Harry blanched, the last thing he needed was for Tom to scare Minerva out of the door now that she had completely relaxed in their company.

Thankfully Minnie wasn't the easily scared type and smiled, taking it as a joke.  
“Your humour is really macabre, Tom.”

Tom wasn't offended.  
“So they have told me.”

Them Miss Pomfrey returned.  
“Five minutes are up; Madame Wilson is going to kill both you and me.”

Their friends started leaving but the mention of the older healer brought something to Harry's mind.  
“Hey Zev, are you related with Madame Wilson in any way?”

Zev smiled, surprised.  
“Yes, she is my mother's aunt, how you'd know?”

Harry returned it, ruefully.  
“You don't want to know.”

Zevi shrugged.

“I can guess well enough. She has and  a closer relative in the school you know, than me and my sister...Her niece, Augusta, is a sixth year Gryffindor.” with that parting shot he left, smirking.

Harry was too busy laughing to retaliate.  
“Oh poor Neville!” was the only thing he was able to say...

Minerva was curious.  
“Who's Neville?”

But Tom had enough of company.  
“No one that you know, now leave.”

Minerva huffed angrily but did as she was told.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

“You were rude,” Harry told him after he had finally managed to control his laughter.

Tom merely raised an eyebrow.  
“So?”

Harry didn't hold much back...  
“I would have preferred if you weren't, or even stop scaring her. To the point, I don't want her returning to Dumbledore just because we, or more like it you, frightened her.”

Tom sent him a withering glare.  
“If you believe even for a second that I will modulate my behaviour for a mere follower then you are dreaming on.”

Harry gritted his teeth, but was perfectly aware that Tom was goading him. He wasn't going to do him the favour, no, so he widened his eyes and sent his friend a brilliant smile.  
“But I thought you did that with everyone?” he asked _oh so innocently._

Tom's flashing eyes were proof enough that his words had found their mark, but his friend was too good a player to truly react.  
“All the more reason to drop some of the act with my supposed closest ones, after all, I promised Hermione to try being less sexist.”

Harry couldn't help himself, he laughed again. This was so horrible that it was actually good.  
“You are so not comedian.”

Tom's lips twitched.  
“Yet you laugh.”

Harry shook his head.  
“How can I not? That was beyond terrible! Only you could ever consider being an equal opportunity obnoxious as a virtue.”

Tom turned serious again.

“If she is to remain in our circle, as more than Alphard's wife, she will have to get used to some things. I wouldn't worry for her if I was you; she can handle it and has far more guts and devotion than I gave her credit before. Your spare but impassioned speech for magical balance made her a far stronger impression that you can imagine.”

Harry's lips tightened for a second and that was the only sign of his distress _.  
If Tom had seen that discussion he had seen and the rest of it_... _Still, after everything that had happened_... _it was small potatoes._  
“Did you just compliment Minerva, a Gryffindor?” he asked half incredulously to cover things.

Tom merely looked at him.  
“Why so surprised? You are a half Gryffindor and so is Hermione. After all, if we are going to unite the whole wizarding world we'll need the Gryffindors as well.”

Tom seemed sincere, too sincere.  
“Thank you for your consideration,” he answered dryly, “but why am I not buying it?”

The Teen Dark Lord looked at him strangely. If it was from someone other than his friend, Harry would have called it coyly flirtatious.  
“You are overly suspicious, darling. If you want to know, the only thing that Gryffindors, in general, and your friend Minerva, in particular, truly lacks is some subtlety. She would make a terrible spy.”

Harry was assaulted, for a second, with the distasteful memory of the one successful Gryffindor spy and made a disgusted face. He was ready to tell Tom that he should be thankful they didn't have any when he backtracked to his friend's last statement, it may sound like their usual banter but there was and a great deal of menace and censure lying underneath the teasing. Tom may have played, this, lightly but it was anything but.

 **“** **You had Minnie spying on Dumbledore.”** it wasn't a question.

Tom merely raised an eyebrow.  
 **“** **Why, are you surprised?”**

Harry smiled bitterly.  
 **“** **No, not really; though, it would have been appreciated if you had informed me at the very least.”**

Tom examined him critically.  
 **“** **And would you have agreed if I had?” i** t was a legitimate question, not merely teasing and Harry tried to answer honestly not simply emotionally.

**“I'm not completely sure. I would never have allowed for Minerva to be sent to her ambition's destruction for any reason, but it is possible that I'm influenced from the result. It also matters how needed the information was.”**

The nascent Dark Lord regarded him just as solemnly.

**“ **One, your precious Minerva is far from destroyed in any way, she just doesn't have a place on the other side any more; something that I believe was your plan anyway. Don't blame me on how it happened. It's not my fault that she didn't know the first thing on how to hide herself.”****

Harry ground his teeth viciously. Regrettably, Tom had a point.  
 **“** **Suppose that I accept this, why were you so kind to her, you are not that fond of failure?”** he tested.

Something savage passed across Tom's face. It was fleeting, barely a second, but it was indication enough of a major strike.  
 **“** **No, I'm not, but her usefulness is far from over in merely spying. She is truly loyal to us and the news that Dumbledore's own assistant switched sides will create quite the ripple on his followers.”**

Harry was somewhat alarmed by the frosty tone.   
 **“** **Don't you even think about holding a grudge... she did her best and, as you pointed out, it will work for us...What do you want to find so desperately that you resorted on spying on Dumbledore anyway?”** he asked.

Tom merely shook his head at Harry's threatening tone.  
 **“** **Don't worry, hero, I won't hurt your lioness for her foolishness, just never ask her something beyond her capabilities ever again.”** his voice was mocking but sincere.

Harry shrugged, as long as Tom didn't lift a finger at Minnie he didn't really care what he called her in his mind and was going to ensure that she wasn't going to get any more involved in either case.   
 **“** **You still didn't answer about what you wanted from Dumbledore,”** he pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

Tom merely looked at him as he resumed talking.  
 **“** **Don't tell me you were alright without knowing anything from Dumbledore's plans, even before his surprise at the battle.”**

Harry held his gaze and something in his eyes softened a bit, it wasn't only because of their bond that they frequently shared that specific nightmare.  
 **“** **No I wasn't but that didn't mean that it was alright to involve Minnie.”**

Tom scoffed.  
 **“** **Oh please spare me, Minerva was in the perfect place for the job and wasn't coerced in any way, she's an adult and conscious of her decision. I merely asked her, politely, and she agreed. If you want to complain about it do it honestly.”**

Harry glared daggers.  
 **“** **What the hell do you mean? I'm as honest as I can be with you.”**

Tom tsked.  
 **“** **Really darling, then you must have started lying to yourself as well. The only reason that you were pissed from Minerva's mission was because she is your follower and you didn't like that I stuck my nose into your business. Welcome to my world, love.”**

Harry gaped.   
 **“** **I don't lie to myself; Minerva is my friend not a follower, I don't have those. Of course I care if you get her in trouble. You want to treat people callously, that's your problem, just don't tell me that I do the same,”** he hissed.

Tom smiled chillingly and started eating his soup.   
 **“** **I don't need to tell you, it's a fact. If you refuse to acknowledge it you do more damage to yourself than me. You are my equal, but if you continue to deny it I will use it against you, that I promise. If you won't direct your minions I will do it for you.”**

Harry's anger boiled.  
 **“** **You don't have any rights to those not sworn to you... and stop talking like I'm a bloody Lord.”**

Tom's eyes were burning.  
 **“** **You are a** _ **Lord**_ _ **!**_ **”** his voice held more passion than Harry ever heard before. **“The longer you keep lying to yourself the weaker you will be. I won't have it.”**

He took a calming breath. **  
“Eat your soup; I won't have the healer bitching at us again.”**

Harry's nerves were on edge, his stomach spasming. With a single thought he banished the soup; he wouldn't keep it down as it was. He tried to speak calmly.  
 **“** **Tom, you are way exaggerating when you call me a Lord, we are very alike in many things, yes, but I have nor the temperament and certainly not the attitude to be one.”**

Tom's eyes had narrowed at his display and he didn't seem to be paying any attention to Harry's words.  
 **“** **You shouldn't do that, sweetheart, you are already skin and bones, almost worst than your first coming here. You really should ask Pomfrey for more.”**

Harry's temper, already on thin ice with Tom today, snapped at the patronising tone, for all the true concern he could read. It was in par with his friend after all to care only on his own terms.  
 **“** **None of your damn business,”** he hissed in his most derisive tone.

But, instead of snapping back at the blatant disregard, Tom smiled brilliantly. There was a good deal of gloating in that smile, yet it was honest. _Terrifying!  
_ **“** **And here you come to my words; you are incapable to follow an order to save your life, it may come as a surprise to you but living under no-one's rule but yourself is also a Lord's prerogative.”**

Harry was stunned for a moment. That argument may sound logical but it couldn't be. _Surely he wasn't the only independent minded wizard in Britain, never mind the world.  
_ **“** **I have no problem with following orders in general, only yours in particular.”** he deadpanned to hide his unease.

It certainly didn't defer Tom, whose expression could only be called wolfish.  
 **“** **All the more reason for me to hold my opinion...”**

Harry groaned inwardly and debated with himself, for a moment, if it was worth it to continue with the topic, now, or drop it. The last thing he needed was to be shackled with the expectations of a Lord, yet, he know that tone pretty well, Tom was never going to change his mind, in this, no matter what he was going to say. He was probably only going to waste his breath... then again...

_The hell with it!_

His face hardened and he opened his mouth to tell Tom where to put his crazy ideas, _grimly detailed_ , when he heard steps at the door again. Pomfrey was returning to bug them. _Really the hospital wing was the last place for such a discussion._

 **“** **Later,”** he hissed with resolution.

Tom merely waved him off in a sardonic gesture that had the clear meaning of ' _Bring it on'_.

 _What kinds of wards Tom had cast?_ Ineffective was a mild word, either Tom was far more affected by his injuries that he let on, or he was playing games again. _But what he did he have to win from this mess?_

Pomfrey walked back briskly and every hint of flirting or good humour was gone. If she was professional before she appeared frosty now.  
“Really, you two, I leave you alone for a few moments and you start fighting again. What are you, adult wizards or small kids?”

Harry blushed scarlet and started to defend himself but she paid him no attention and he finally understood Tom's game. His friend didn't want to encourage the romance but to destroy it in the roots. He honestly didn't know what to feel; as far as he was concerned there wasn't a romance to be destroyed and a small part of him was ecstatic at Tom's irrational jealousy. But he was also beyond irritated – this had almost nothing to do with emotions or possessiveness – it was mostly a blatant disregard of his independence... _in either case nothing good..._

Finally Pomfrey noticed the plates.  
“At least you two ate...Ready for the treatment?” her voice didn't leave the slightest opening for frivolities; she demanded a simple yes or no...

...And so they answered simultaneously.  
“Yes ma'am.” Tom was looking at him with a frown but thankfully didn't mention that he needed more soup. _Small mercies..._

Miss Pomfrey didn't miss a second after their affirmation. Muttering a quick, “Fractus Revelio.” and waving her wand at them in a complicate and graceful ark, she set to work.

The feeling of her magic wasn't bad, truthfully quite soothing and not invasive, but the result of the spell not so much. Harry felt a bit queasy in his stomach as he realised just how many places in his body were engulfed in the soft orange glow, the same with Tom. The careful vanish of each orange hued bone, on both of them, took a long time. When Harry was finally handed the potion he drank it, quite thankful. This was going to be beyond painful but he was used to that and he'd rather have the pain for a few hours than the wrong feeling of the missing bones.

“Try to rest a bit, but even if you can't, either I, or Madame Wilson, are going to give you a potion to sleep afterwards. Don't worry; you will be free by tomorrow morning and won't miss the last day, or any holiday.”

Tom thanked her for her care, always the model student, (model actor truly) and Harry followed his example, though inside he was scheming.  
 _Like hell would they give him a calming draught!_

As soon as the effect of skele-gro was over Harry planned to return to his dorm even if he had to use a compulsion... it was up to Tom for his own actions, maybe his friend would want to keep his act as intact it got, but he wasn't going to stay here a second more than necessary...

Finally Pomfrey left them alone. Harry closed his eyes enjoying the short moment before the pain started again, but then he heard Tom's very satisfied hiss...  
 **“Good riddance.”**

Harry opened one eye.  
 **“** **What's wrong with you today?”**

Tom looked at him innocently.  
“Nothing is wrong, why do you say that...”

Harry rolled his eyes.  
 **“** **With such nerves? Pull the other one Tom...”** he waited a moment, before adding with casual deliverance, **“...and it's not like you to botch up a spell.”**

Tom's eyes flashed.  
 **“** **I didn't mess the wards, for your information they did exactly as they should.”**

 _Sometimes Tom's arrogance got right on his nerves._ _  
_**“** **Oh yeah, then why did Pomfrey decided to visit us every five minutes?”**

Tom looked like he was searching for patience.  
 **“** **Oh I don't know, maybe she was dying to find out what we were talking about, but most likely it was you. The ward's function is to scramble the sounds, not hide the volume; it would have been far too suspicious if there was no sound at all.”**

Harry responded with the same look.  
 **“** **I think that you got it too far, Tom. Madams Wilson and Pomfrey work for the school and Dumbledore is not the headmaster, I doubt they are actively spying on us.”**

Tom raised an eyebrow.  
 **“** **Maybe, but can you risk it?”**

Harry shook his head fondly.  
 **“** **Paranoid git.”**

Tom flashed him a smile.  
 **“** **You've told me once already.”** then his smile was gone. **“** **Any way, shouting like that was only your latest in several mistakes; you really must work on it.”**

Harry had known it would have come to this...  
 **“** **Care to enlighten me to them?”** he asked to get over the lecture.

 **“** **Gladly.”** Tom's expression was far too predatory for Harry's tastes at the moment.  
 **“** **You let Grindelwald get under your skin and so revealed your power early with your outbursts. That was an advantage lost to us.”**

 **“** **Maybe,”** Harry conceded. **“But he was there the whole battle so he had a pretty good idea what we were capable of and it's not like you didn't have some minor flares yourself...”**

Tom acted like he hadn't spoken at all.  
 **“** **And what were you thinking getting in front of me like I was your defenceless girlfriend?”**

Harry blushed but held his ground.   
 **“** **Hey we protect and get in front of each other all the bloody time, it wasn't like that.”**

 **“** **Really?”** Tom's eyes were searing into him, alight with intense rage.  **“It can hardly count as our usual behaviour. We protect each other in battle, yes, not from the eyes of an old pervert. You made me look weak to the people watching, not an easy thing to forgive.”**

Harry lowered his head, his faint flush intensifying to the point of a tomato. The last thing he wanted to do was to insult Tom like that.  
 _He was in deep shit..._ Still, something bothered him.

 **“** **I'm really sorry Tom,”** he told his friend, honestly contrite.  **“It wasn't my intention to abate you like that, but it’s not like I could help it under the circumstances, even you weren't completely composed at the time.”**

Tom's eyes darkened at the remembrance.

 **“** **Of course I wasn't, you are my best (only) friend and the old lecher was practically undressing you with his eyes.”** the tone was clipped, short.  
 **“The point, darling, is moderation. Had I reacted the same way as you, you would have been just as insulted.”**

Harry wasn't sure of the last one; he had a feeling that he would have liked the reassurance too much for it. Still, the thought of been treated like a female and a defenceless one at that would smart greatly as well.  
 **“** **Probably,”** he accepted. Tom surveyed him for a moment.

 **“** **But you don't have to worry, the insult won't go unpunished, sooner or later the old bastard will fall by our hands and he will get what he deserves...”** Tom's voice held promise and his eyes glinted maniacally at the prospect of revenge. **“...and he will regret it a thousand times that he didn't die the easy way at the battle.”**

Harry should have been apprehensive of this, even a little bit, but for once he was on total agreement, no hesitations.  
 **“** **Count me in,”** he said simply.

Their eyes met in complete understanding, Tom's expression fully open for a moment...But then he restarted the lecture.  
 **“** **There is of course the matter of your final attack.”**

Harry didn't expect this...  
 **“** **I don't have such a thing.”**

 **“** **Sure you don't,”** Tom mocked him gently, **“** **it's not a specific move but the logic is the same. Every time you are truly cornered you end up making a suicide move. I won't have it, even you can't be lucky enough to survive it forever and ever.”**

The last words were dead serious, more; Harry could swear he glimpsed something like concern. He swallowed.  
 **“** **It's not like I'm doing it for fun.”** he tried to lighten things up.

Tom snorted and then it was worse than being under a microscope.  
 **“** **Try again,”** was all he said.

Harry had started to believe that he'd badly underestimated Tom's agitation.  
 **“** **I will do whatever is needed every time,”** he stated honestly, **“but I never want to take others with me.”** he compromised.

Tom nodded.  
 **“** **Alright, I will make sure you'll never be alone.”**

This was more a threat than middle ground, but Harry accepted it for the moment. He had a feeling that it was going to bring them many fights in the future, but maybe they could work with this...

They relaxed in comfortable silence, waiting the full pain to hit, but then Tom, contrary bastard that never let things rest, opened his mouth once again.  
 **“** **I almost forgot... your public language, at least, needs fixing. It is totally degrading for a Lord,”** his friend added casually.

Harry's eyes opened again, wide... _The hell he had forgotten, this was all for effect...  
_ **“** **How many times do I need to tell you that I'm not a Lord, have you got stuck or something?”** he barely remembered to not shout.

The flash of the following anger would have terrified someone lesser. Still, in spite of this, Tom kept things conversational.  
 **“** **No, that's you; you're so stuck in your ideas of right and wrong that you miss the whole point and it could very well cost us our lives.”**

For all the nitro freezing, derisive, tone and volcanic feelings there was more logic here than anger. Harry was both wary and intrigued.  
 **“** **What the hell do you mean?”**

His friend didn't answer immediately but stabbed him with his eyes, like _if_  -even with their bond- it was impossible to understand him sometimes. Finally, when he was ready to curse him, Tom decided to speak.  
 **“** **It hasn't sunk in, what happened, yet, has it..?”** his voice something softer than whisper.

This wasn't what he expected; Harry gulped thickly at that unguarded look. He wasn't completely sure but he had a feeling where this was going and it messed his insides with foreboding.

Tom didn't give him the time to answer.  
 **“** **...** **This was the worst battle we ever faced, if you hadn't pulled that crazy, suicidal, stunt we'd have ended bodiless spirits waiting our companions' mercy to be revived,** _ **if we were lucky**_ **, not that I've forgiven the stunt itself.”**

The confirmation had a bitter taste. Harry would have liked to be able to call his friend's fears an exaggeration, or to simply dismiss them, but he couldn't, he understood all too well. He was used to the feeling, like each battle could easily be his last one – in fact, if his life had taught him anything it was that it could end any second. For Tom it was a completely different matter...

Tom wasn't used in enemies he couldn't overcome, or even having suffered true damage, the worst he ever came across in combat, before, was obliviation. Even during their first fight, when they got really close to death, it had gone too fast to truly register. For his friend's assertive personality it was a very bitter pill to swallow. The fear was unmistakable even if Tom was doing his best to keep up the pretence of their normal bantering, judging by his comment about the desperate stunt.

Harry opened his mouth to comfort him, then closed it again. Whatever he could say now would be empty, or as good as. He couldn't promise for sure that they were going to survive the incoming attacks, _like before._ He knew better now. Nor could he wallow in the guilt that it was his fault. Tom had gotten into the mess only because Harry had volunteered him...

Tom didn't want empty emotions, guilt, or even understanding.

He knew his friend too well for that. The only reason for Tom to admit such unprecedented humiliation, (Harry could probably feel its stinging depth from the other side of the school) was if he wanted something, something Harry wasn't prepared to give...Namely the matter at hand, so he told his conscience to wait and held his ground.

 **“** **You're getting awfully off topic here Tom,”** he said flippantly, pretending he hadn't understood the Teen's Dark Lord mortification, or play.

Tom, seeing that Harry wasn't going to make things easy, stopped beating around the bush.  
 **“** **Hardly, we have a deal for our future and the future of our world, no? I have kept my part, giving my everything, but not you. You are holding back, weakening us. I want you to finally admit you are a Lord.”**

Harry was growing more worried with every word leaving his friend's lips. The endgame was already known but the way that Tom used his vulnerability, except as guilt-trip, baffled him to his core.  
 **“** **I don't understand what the hell you may gain with this,”** he frustratedly admitted.

 **“** **You really don't understand!”** Tom sounded awed by his stupidity. The tone irked Harry and he answered harsher than he intended.

**“ **What is that I don't understand? You may get off on it if I get an arse's attitude too, but how is going to help the war effort? Try again... except if you believe it will draw more followers into our side... but I really doubt it.”****

Strangely, Tom kept his voice civil.  
 **“** **Hardly, but as you obviously hadn't bothered to read anything on the matter... Lord, is not a title that one can simply chose to take, or even to be given by others... it's a power level.”**

 **“** **I see.”** Harry managed, his head swimming.

This was something completely new and it changed many things inside him. He needed to think, hard, on it, and read to be sure. But he already felt many ideas and misconceptions get shaken. Even Tom, who he always attributed as being fat headed due to claiming of said title at mere fifteen, if not younger, may not have been as completely conceited as Harry had believed him to be.

Tom waited a bit until he was satisfied with what he saw on his face.  
 **“** **Do you understand now? If you don't accept what you are, deeply into your heart and mind, you are only holding yourself back and limiting your power... surely not the most helpful thing on a battlefield.”**

There was again a hint of the same passion which Harry had seen on his friend's first outburst of the topic. The only other time he had seen Tom like this was during the horcrux discussion. A true matter of life and death...  
 _B_ _ut maybe_... _unlike then_... _he didn't have to dread it._ He took a deep breath.

 **“** **I suppose that you may have a point,”** he told Tom solemnly.  **“If that is what being a Lord truly entitles and I find reading material matching your words I will do my best to accept it as part of myself.” h** e smiled impishly. **“Now that I know that it doesn't need to mean changes to my outlook it's so much easier...”**

There was a shadow passing at his friend's eyes, like he expected the adding of a price to the concession, but it didn't last long. Tom matched his smile, devilish intent and all.  
 **“** **Oh I don't know, you already have the attitude you complain about, but if you want to keep it...”**

Harry's smile was long past.  
 **“** **What on earth do you mean?”**

Tom didn't look like he was joking anymore in the slightest.  
 **“** **You frequently complain about the way that I treat my followers but you have started doing the same. I don't truly mind but its disturbing coming from you and even more so if you aren't aware of it.”**

Harry's mind was spinning. There was a ring of truth in Tom's words and conviction. He had always tried to treat his friends and, to a slight lesser extent, people in general, in the best possible way. It had taken a bit more effort after the Horcrux, but he thought he'd managed, if that wasn't the case...

...Still, as much as he searched, he couldn't find a time in his memories that he was truly horrible at someone not deserving it.  
 **“** **Give me an example,”** he voiced his doubts.

Tom didn't miss a second.  
 **“** **The way you treated your Lioness... the second you thought I was getting too close to her you passed her over to Alphard like second hand furniture.”**

Harry gaped for a moment. _It wasn't like that, was it?_ He could see some of Tom's point but he didn't do it like that, he was nowhere near that cold...

 **“** **I didn't pass her over like that,”** he defended himself. **“After I found out that Alphard is in love with Minnie he asked me if I was serious about her, as we weren't anything of the sort I moved aside. Minerva had every right to tell him to take a hike... it was a friends thing to do,** _ **even you did this courtesy when you started courting Mione,**_ **and Slytherin but nowhere near darklordish.”**

Tom levelled him with a challenging look.  
 **“** **Assuming that I can accept that, to a point, care to explain why you exploded at Abraxas, the previous year, for his disapproval regarding Apollonius Lovegood dating his sister?”**

Harry could recall that day. He had been so angry and disappointed with Abraxas, then, and not only cause he had been rude and snobbish enough to intervene on Marcella's romance with a poorer guy. He clenched his teeth.  
 **“** **How could Brax ignore Luna like that? She was almost as closely related to him as Draco, it must have been obvious to him, how could he be such an arse?”**

Tom stroked his chin examining him carefully.  
 **“** **Ah I see, you were protecting crazy Lovegood's honour and future existence.”**

Harry glared. It was beyond petty for Tom to insult Luna's memory after everything.  
“Her name was and will be again Luna.”

Tom gave the smallest half mocking nod in acknowledgement.  
 **“** **Excuse me then, Luna. But does that emotional response pardon interfering into family? As far I know friendship doesn't cut it that far...”** Tom's mild conversational tone of voice made his words' sting that much worse.

Harry blanched at this. He had done his damn hardest to not think about the incident in terms like that, but he wasn't completely blind. He could try to apologise to Brax at a later day but that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was how little remorse he'd felt about this action, even now that he knew. Tom told him this to stop him hiding from himself and so to build himself back up and fortify his defences. It also made him aware of something else... something he couldn't afford. Harry very deliberately chose not think on this...not now.

With well practised ease Harry let go of his train of thought and focused on the point on hand. He regarded Tom calmly.  
 **“** **You made your point; I can be as much a bastard as you, happy?”**

Tom's lips twisted into something like a bitter smile.

**“ **Nowhere near there, you could never get that far... and no, it was only half the point. The other half is that due to your emotional nature and by allowing your self delusions to exist, you open yourself up to emotional harm which can easily turn into festering wounds...”****

Harry's eyes widened frantically...

Tom could be somewhat right but he couldn't deal with this, not now.  
 _Well, 'Not Now' had started sounding like his personal mantra..._  
 **“** **I'm not that fragile, Tom, drop it.”**

Tom didn't have such qualms.  
 **“** **Case in point: Amelia Bones.”**

Harry flinched.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

{He had tried very hard to forget that he ever dated Amelia Bones the previous year. They had become friends when Roger had introduced them to tutor her in defence for getting into the Auror program. Their affair had come from this, quietly and naturally enough. Harry had found solace in her sweet seriousness, which eased a bit the absence of everyone he'd lost.

He had done his best to be a good boyfriend, going by the standards of his own time, supporting her dreams and independence, while abiding to the restrictions of today and never going further than the strict rules that she had laid.  
 _It hadn't been enough._

Harry was the first to admit that she deserved someone more attentive, as he only managed to give her a quartet of his free time, regularly, some times he managed half. But it wasn't anywhere near enough of an excuse for the way she dumped him – _al_ _though the malicious part was unintentional_ – after four months. It had come completely out of the blue. He had judged her ready and trusted enough to show her what defence could truly be like and convinced Tom to spar with him in front of her... the same night she dumped him.

If it was the dark arts he would accept it more easily, she was from a very light family after all. But no, she insisted that they should end because she was sure his true thing was with Tom and didn't want to be in the way. She was too nice to outright accuse him of cheating. Now, at the time, it was the furthest thing from his mind, but what truly enraged him was that she wasn't discreet. She didn't gossip about it of course, but had chosen to announce him this at the corner of her common room. Naturally, it had spread to the whole school by the next day and it got from the odd little tease to almost the way it had been at his time, only this day's reserve saved things a bit...

Harry had been surprised Tom hadn't cursed her, and a bit suspicious, but for once his friend was completely innocent of this particular game. He hadn't been able to get another girlfriend; Minerva's reaction had been typical on the polite side...

...To this day he could only exchange civil greetings with Amelia without wishing to strangle her... the fact that she had been proved right only adding fuel to his fire...}

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

The sharpening of pain to his ribs put an end to this nasty head-trip; Tom was still watching him like a hawk.  
 **“** **Back to the present, Harry?”** he asked, probably more as a way to say he understood where he'd gone. The absence of a pet-name was proof enough of that; he couldn't stand it at the moment.

Harry regarded Tom back, just as intensely, steely eyed.  
 **“** **I was merely trying to figure out if self-delusions played any part to this particular story, so far I've found none.”** his voice betrayed nothing of what he had felt while remembering.

He wondered if Tom was going to answer to the direct challenge he had issued. So far, except his one time offer, he had kept the teasing indirect, no matter how heated.  _It was time to turn the tables._

Tom had indicated he expected a demand before. Harry had refrained because of the remains of his Gryffindor values. He couldn't really stipulate a price for something he was going to give to safeguard others, it would cheapen it. For Tom though, to bring forth that specific point, it meant that he wanted 'one specific demand'. But Harry was done holding back, if 'The Nascent Dark Lord' was ready to make him relive a humiliation to get something he wanted the least he could do was own up to his game.

Harry held his breath waiting for the answer, he didn't have to wait for long.  
 **“** **Really, Harry, I could have thought of several. Amelia Bones has reddish brown hair and hazel eyes, nowhere near pretty like your mother's picture, but more than passable. The fact that she seemed ten times worthier than Ginny Weasley didn't hurt.”**

Disappointment welled inside him, together with the first snaps of anger and acute disbelief. _Tom was returning to that?  
_ **“** **You dare?”**

 ****Tom raised a sardonic eyebrow as if to say _stupid question_.

**“ **I'm your friend, if I won't say it to you, no one will. I ignored the signs, the first time, because she seemed to be what you needed and had a fraction of your worth. The pattern is more than clear; you are only attracted to people who've held some significance to your past. All your love interests are people who represent one of your 'future' emotional attachments, or people you are emotionally dependant... a self made chain to keep you afloat.”****

The deadly cut was so clear and precise that for a moment Harry didn't feel the pain. Then it hit, more excruciating than any curse. Rage warred with the pain creating an explosive mix. Only the barest strings of his will held the magic back, else he was going to curse to kill Tom... and Harry didn't want that, even now he didn't really want it.

So he took refuge to his first weapon against Tom, his words... It was Tom's turn to flinch from the look on his face.  
 **“** **Really Tom, you know so much about these things. The only relationship of that type you can claim is with Herm, who didn't seem so very enthusiastic today. What happened? You decided to drive her away too?”**

Something like pain reflected into Tom's eyes, as if he didn't expect such a severe reaction... Strangely he didn't respond with an immediate hit back, like usual, or even denial at what Harry was getting at... his reaction was most curious...  
 **“** **No, my relationship with her is not like that.”** he said softly.

It was Harry's turn to tilt his head in deep examination. _Was it really hesitation that he was hearing in Tom's voice?  
_ **“** **Then how is it? You had told me that you want her, was that a lie, like the usual fare?”**

Tom returned the look, seeming to snap a bit from his curious reaction.  
 **“** **You accepted the term blindly with preconceptions due the context; you never asked what I wanted her for...”**

Harry's emotions had moved to the back of his head freeing him – for now – so that he could appreciate that particular shift of Tom-logic.  
 **“** **Do tell.”** he asked, only with mild curiosity.

Tom seemed almost unnerved. _God what was wrong with the man?_  
He continued to answer though.  
 **“** **For a career to the ministry, the right wife is almost mandatory...”** he started.

Harry had to interrupt at that.  
 **“** **A muggleborn, how stupid do you take me?”**

That got a flash of anger and the first calculating look. Tom was merely trying to figure out what was wrong with him. It brought a distant sort of relief; he didn't want to break Tom, not like him.

 **“** **Not at all, a pure blood would have been better but... I checked myself... The incestuous mutations were too extended even on me, the only chance for me to have a non squib and healthy child is a mudborn mother and I want to continue my line. She has the intellect, drive, passable looks and power levels, even accepts me to a point. Hermione is the best possible compromise.”**

Harry dissected this. He couldn't read the smallest hint of falsehood.  
 **“** **What about Hermione, what is she getting out of this?”**

This got the first sigh of relief out of Tom.

**“ **She will get my care, support, comfort, appreciation and a family. I may not love her but I'm not the bastard my father was, I know my duty to my wife. More so, someday she will have her pick to direct anything she wants to our world; she would have got somewhere by herself before that, alone, of course. But being The First Magical Lady is not something to spit at and our Hermione is certainly ambitious.”****

Harry felt a small pang to his chest for all his numbness. Tom said that this was about logic but it didn't seem like that to him, not completely...maybe it could turn into something much more in the future...  
 **“** **I will have to ask her too, to be sure,”** he said, at last.

Tom looked openly relieved after this and that – together with the intensified pain to his chest – made Harry ask something he hadn't planned.  
 _Too open a weakness..._

**“ **What about love? You could fall in love too someday, for all you know.”  
****

Their eyes met; there wasn't even the pretext that it was theoretical anymore.

 **“** **No, even if I was, it wouldn't change anything. You either get over it, they leave you, or, in any case, hold too much power over you. I prefer logic.”** Tom's eyes were heavy, yet they never left his. He meant what he said – even if he wasn't completely sure he had decided his way.

Somewhere inside him Harry understood – he didn't forgive and doubted he ever would – not completely, but he understood enough that there was and a tiny hope for the friendship to survive. He completely ignored the weakest part of himself that was whispering:  _'What about me? You made sure that I could never desert you!'_

It didn't matter.   
Tom may share his feelings, proved by how he'd answered all those questions without a single complaint. But he was a psychopath; emotions didn't reach him most of the time and he had made his decision...

It had taken immeasurable sacrifices –and not only from him– for Tom to not follow the Voldemort path, no matter how much his friend had detested it...  
 _..._ _To persuade him changing his mind in something so fundamental to him..._

Harry should spend his whole life running behind him, worse than Lestrange, living every day with such pain and humiliations, for the rare warm look. Because even the friendship wouldn't hold...since Tom would want to test it...

_Harry didn't have the bravery and heart for this..._

Suddenly he understood why it took him so long to fall for Tom, though the potential was always there. It had nothing to do with sexual orientation, just his instincts recognising at once that should he ever fall for him he would be completely at the other's mercy without anything in return.

 _It was better that everything ended now.  
_...He was free...

Abruptly he felt completely awkward.  
 **“** **Thanks for telling me all this, Tom.”**

Tom shrugged his uninjured shoulder.  
 **“** **Think nothing of it; you had the right to know.”**

Harry looked his friend in the eyes again after this conclusion.  
 **“** **No, Tom, these are your deepest secrets, not even a close friend has a right to them...”**

_Utter silence._

Harry started shifting minutely until his broken – _for now_ – body was laid against the bed, instead of facing Tom. He had a long way for his recovery, mental and physical...

 **“** **Hey, Harry, don't sleep now, we have to decide our next moves against Dumbledore and Grindelwald.”** there was actual panic at Tom's voice for all the nonchalance.

Harry found somewhere a small bitter smile, _typical...  
_ “Hold your horses, too tired, we'll talk later about it, I promise.” _he didn't know why he promised, he'd probably keep it too..._

Thankfully, Tom kept his mouth shut... _too bloody tired for anything anyway..._

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS Edited at 10/08/2014  
> Please review to inspire me for more...


	5. Leonard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When family calls...

 

**Chapter Five: Leonard**

_ **Leonard's pov** _

Charlus Leonard Potter stepped awkwardly out of the floo. Normally he had better grace than this but while he hadn't acquired a heavy injury at yesterday's battle, his body was still stiff and almost uncooperative from small aches and pains.  
“Thanks, for allowing me to use your floo, Minnie,” he told his old friend.

Minerva rolled her eyes.  
“Oh cut it out Leonard, like it was a big thing; how is Lady Potter?”

Leonard felt a tired smile stretching his lips, for all her cranky tone and bluntness Minnie was truly a remarkably caring person.  
“Her injury is almost completely mended; the healers of St Mungo released her home with the stipulation of taking it easy.” some, so far unnoticed, tension relaxed on Minerva's face, but then she got a familiar, curious expression.

“Good, I'm happy that she's alright, but what are you doing here? Professor Dippet has already given permission to all the injured students to stay at their homes the last day if they wished to.”

 _He could have done with a little less nosiness though...  
_ “I plan to take advantage of it, but there is something that I need to do first and yes, it is a big thing. I don't want anyone knowing that I'm in the castle, yet.”

Minerva frowned a bit.  
“Of course I'd keep it quiet, but I hope you are not in trouble,” she told him to her best assistant-teacher voice.

Leonard thought it for a moment: _he was in deep trouble,_ the lives of his family were on the line, but Minerva had been his friend since first year, he trusted her... and could use her help too...  
“Not in the way you mean, but I must see Evans. Is he still on the hospital wing?” he tried for casualness.

Minerva's frown deepened.  
“Why would you want to do that tonight, its past curfew among other things?”

 _She was stalling for time._ Leonard understood startled and something tightened inside his chest.  
Minerva could chose her friends, Gryffindor, Slytherin or whatever... and he barely had the right to add his two Knuts... if he took into account the dating part it was a completely different matter... Unless it was a git that abused her he had no right whatsoever to interfere...

Also, whilst Evans was a decent bloke, it hurt a bit that he would be so obviously the loser from the comparison after that many years of friendship. It more than hurt, truthfully, and at some small part, it pissed him off...  
“Look Minerva,” he said decisively, “it is essential that I will see Evans tonight, is he still in the hospital wing or has he left like usual?”

Minerva examined him carefully, almost suspiciously.  
“Why is it necessary to bother him tonight?” she asked stubbornly, not backing down an inch.

Leonard barely held back an oath. _This was getting ridiculous_. It would have been better if he hadn't said anything and gone to search for Harrison later, with his cloak.

Still, _he knew that expression pretty well..._ This was protective prefect Minerva to the forte...  
 _But why would Evans, of all people, need protection?  
_ “I can't tell you, but I'm not going to hurt him,” he promised sincerely.

Minerva snorted back a laugh.  
“Like you could.”

Leonard laughed too, a bit with self mockery, but a true laugh none the less.  
“I know; I was there yesterday; he could slice me into minced pie in two seconds flat... but seriously... I need to see him. It's a family matter,” he confessed, almost desperate.

Minerva's face softened immediately, something like recognition passing in her eyes. Leonard couldn't help but wonder the extent she truly knew about the situation and how close she had to be with Evans to know it. He had started wondering how far this association went...  
“What's wrong, Leo?”

Leonard tightened his fists – this was seriously dirty playing of Minerva's part.

To bring forth his childhood nickname – only his mother called him that, from time to time, anymore. It brought back memories of the homesick child he had been and Minerva's support. He wanted to accuse her of manipulation but he knew in his heart and mind that it wasn't in her nature... She was sincere.

“I can't tell you, Minnie, not yet,” he said, using the exact same tone.  
“But I will, as soon as I can.”

Minerva examined his face carefully for a moment and apparently was satisfied with what she found.  
“Come with me.”

“What?” Leonard was stunned; he expected her help, but not something like that.

Minerva rolled her eyes and started walking hastily towards the door.  
“Come on, if we're going to do this we'd better hurry.”

“Do what?” Leonard asked almost stupidly.

 _Minerva couldn't be doing what it seemed she was doing, was it? It was too reckless, even for a Gryffindor, and violated too many rules to be even close to character for her...  
_ The Transfiguration assistant ignored him and left her quarters; Leonard threw his backpack to one shoulder and hurried after her...  
 _She was doing it!_

Leonard followed Minerva, with trepidation, to the empty halls, almost to the dungeons. He was all for the bold approach, but he couldn't afford it, cautiousness suited his needs much better. He was already worried about facing Riddle, let alone Harrison. If even a few Slytherins opened their mouths he and his family were doomed.

“Minnie, wait!” he almost pleaded.

“What?” she asked, more anxious than irritated, “I thought you said it was a matter of life and death.”

He hadn't said so, but she knew him enough to read between the lines.  
“It is, but I can't be seen in the Slytherin common room,” he explained.

“I see,” again that look of understanding, Leonard wondered how deep she was in the whole mess, “I could bring him here, I suppose, or,” her face brightened, “you could come covered. You have your cloak, no?”

Leonard nodded his agreement and Minerva guarded the door to an unused classroom as he put it on. Five minutes later, they were standing before an empty wall. He was expecting her to knock, but instead whispered something that sounded more like the teachers' overlay code than the normal password.

Leonard gulped down his guilt; she was going to get in much more trouble than even Riddle's bitching... _not that Riddle's bitching was something to be taken lightly..._ But, much to his surprise, none of the older years, still awake in the common room, accosted her – not even with words. It was like her presence there was almost a common sight. He wondered what other surprises his friend was hiding from him.

_Probably more than he could ever guess..._

That became apparent when his cousin Alphard immediately approached them.  
“Babe, what's wrong, did anything more happen?” Alphard's tone was kind, Leonard could call it tender, but it certainly wasn't the tone of a friend.

Minerva's face and voice softened too, Leonard had never heard her more... feminine.  
“I'm okay now, Alphard; you really don't have to worry.”

“But I do,” Alphard continued in the same tender tone. Minerva blushed a bit and then retook her stern expression.

“I would love to hear you say such things until morning, Alphard, but I don't have the time, if Harry is not asleep can you bring him here?   
It's urgent.” she had obviously tried to make her tone dry but both her delight and deep worry came clear though.

Leonard was surprised that Alphard had enough familiarity with Minerva's moods to not waste time with questions and after an:  
“Alright love,” dashed to the stairs.

Even at a small distance from the Slytherins, Leonard didn't dare to query Minerva for the created questions of this small, but disturbing, talk with his cousin, but he couldn't help but ponder on them himself. Alphard had been honestly worried about Minnie, this was no play, and his cousin wasn't the type to worry for nothing, so something truly bad had happened to her. It wasn't a wound, he had watched her in the battle and she had fared pretty well, much better than him if he was honest. So it was something different... Leonard swore to himself to find out and do his best to help if he could...

_But that wasn't the only disturbing thing._

It was obvious that Minerva was dating Alphard, but the last time he checked Minnie had been dating Evans... what had changed?   
Leonard had been alright with his best friend dating Harrison, even before his mother's Firecall. Harry may have been Slytherin and in – _very close –_ association with Riddle, but there was something like integrity in the other.

 _Or so he believed_...

He trusted his cousin as well, to a certain point, but his dating escapades weren't rumours only... Add that to the tales of how wild the Slytherin parties tended to be and Leonard was at the start of engagement. If Evans had passed Minerva around, like a plaything, he was going to find a way to make him pay, no matter how much he needed his help to protect his family...

He didn't have more time to analyse things, Harry was hastily descending the stairs, making much less time than Leonard expected of him...  
“Hi Minnie, you need me for something?” Harry was affable as usual and even more warm, but the attitude was strictly friendly, nothing more, Leonard didn't know if he should be relieved or not.

“I must speak to you about something; do you mind terribly coming out for a moment?” Minerva was again direct...

Harry didn't seem to mind.  
“Let's go.”

Leonard noticed that he was indeed ready to go out; his hair was wet from the shower but he was wearing the school uniform, except the robe.  
“Wait, you are going to return her to her room, right?” he had almost forgotten Alphard, still, his cousin's tone held only concern, not suspicion or jealousy.

“Actually,” Minerva bit her lip. “Would you mind waiting ten minutes and then coming to find us?” she asked, blushing.

Leonard didn't mind this at all, now that he thought about it he was relieved. Minerva was going to hit him upside the head if she ever heard it, but he didn't like the thought of her alone in the snake den.

“Gladly.”  
Alphard beamed as he answered and Harry seemed to have fun with the exchange. Leonard wondered once more with their dynamic...

As the wall closed behind them Harrison raised two expectant eyebrows.  
“So?”

Leonard couldn't bear another moment of waiting and threw the cloak back off his head and shoulders.  
“I need to speak with you, Evans.”

Harrison didn't miss a beat.  
“Okay, will the room of requirement be alright or do you have another place in mind?”

Leonard was a bit agitated from his reaction; Harry didn't seem at all surprised by his presence. Most people asked about the cloak, at least. He wondered once again how much Evans knew...  
“The RoR will be more than okay.” he answered formally.

 _Ever since the possibility had crossed his mind he had lost even the little ease he once had with the easy going Slytherin...Still_...

“Minnie?” he started to ask if she would be alright there, but had to stop because Harry did exactly the same.  
They looked at each other...then laughed.  
“Sorry Min,” Leonard said at least, “But you've given my cousin a very loose timing.”

Minerva glared at them and it wasn't only for effect.  
“Forgive me for not expecting you to immediately act like adult wizards, it's not like you extended the courtesy yourselves.”

Harry looked as chastised as him, from the reprimand, and Leonard found this hilariously funny, but he carefully kept his laugh hidden deep inside. As his father used to tell him: 'The first step of making a deal was making sure to not offend the other...'  
“Guilty, can you forgive me?” Harry looked like he recovered better though, if he was to be judged by his impish grin. Now Leonard could see them working as a couple a bit better...

Minerva tapped her chin.  
“I could, if you allowed me to come with you; you promised me, once, that I could learn your secrets.”

Leonard wanted to complain but he held his tongue – he preferred Minerva uninvolved, and so safe, but if she was already drawn in (and it looked like she very much was) then she could support his case.

Harry sent him a look, examining his reaction, and then he took on a mock thoughtful expression.  
“I could, I usually keep my promises, but what about Alphard? Would you leave him searching for you and worried?”

Minerva's bright smile was proof that she knew it was a game.  
“We could wait for him?”

Harry shook his head.  
“Not this time,” he turned his attention on Leonard.  
“Shall we?”

Leonard nodded his agreement and raised his cloak up to make room for Harry. It would be a bit tight with two, almost grown, men – but it would work.

Harry smiled, a bit strangely.  
“No need. I can disillusion myself, let's go.”

Leonard agreed, barely remembering to wave goodbye to Minnie, lowered his cloak and started for the seventh floor. Maybe he should have been more wary, Slytherins were known for playing games, but he trusted Harry, he was going to be at the RoR room. What had shaken him was that nostalgic smile. Harry didn't simply know of the invisibility cloak, he was intimate with it...  
But from where?

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Harry indeed kept his word; five minutes later they were facing each other at the room of requirement.

Leonard gulped. -What he had to say wasn't easy.  
“I owe you my mother's life and my own. Thank you.” he started nonetheless...

Harry looked deeply uncomfortable.  
“You owe me nothing.” he made a deliberate gesture with his hand, absolving the bond. “It was a battle; I would have saved anyone on our side.”

Leonard observed him curiously: he spoke more like a Gryffindor now, and his moves were slower than usual as opposed to his usual restless energy. He'd probably got quite the beating and was hiding it under heavy glamours.   
He decided to speak openly as well. 

“That's why you took an Avada for me 1.5 years ago?”

There was a momentary surprise at Harry's face.  
“You remember.” he said at last.

“I do,” Leonard confirmed steadily. “I think I understand the reason,” a deep breath for the really hard part.  
“But we must talk about it, even if you are my father's son and my brother.”

Harry choked on his own breath.  
“Where the hell have you came up with that?” he asked, almost faint.

Leonard ignored the reaction; he certainly didn't expect him to admit it at once as Harry never made a move to get close to his family.  
“My mother thinks that you are the son of Uncle James, but I don't believe it, for all that you remind me of him a great deal.”

But Harry had gotten over his shock and was regarding him with an expression of disdain.  
“If this is the Gryffindor idea of joke I suggest that you stop, it is tasteless to play such games with an orphan.”

It was perfectly executed: the scorn, the bit of hurt, Leonard noticed though that everything was laced with the faintest touch of uneasiness, and decided to press his point.  
“Where could I get the idea? Harrison James Evans Potter.”

This obtained the strongest reaction he'd got from Harry to date.  
“Where did you hear that name?” he hissed with an undertone of menace, looking like a deadly, cornered, snake.

Leonard felt the first stings of fear – he had forgotten, with all that displayed openness, that this was Riddle's closest companion and not only for his looks or his ferociousness in battle. The last thing he needed was Harrison Evans for an enemy, but it was too late to back out now. He bravely held his ground.

“It doesn't matter from where; it's your true name isn't it?” he pressed.

Something like betrayal and pain crossed Harry's features for a moment, but the next second it was wiped out with stone cold anger.  
“I advise you to leave and never address me again if you value your life.”

Leonard froze in terror at the deadly intent he saw in the eerie green eyes. _What had he done?  
_ This was a bit too much even if Evans didn't want anything to do with his family. Then he understood, Harry believed that he had been betrayed by Minerva and the only reason he hadn't left the room himself was that he would probably go straight for her if he didn't calm down.

Suddenly even his cause for initiating this meeting became secondary, for the moment; the danger to Minnie was far more immediate.  
“I didn't find out who’s you truly are from Minerva, I found it, or precisely my mother did, from the family tapestry not long ago. That's why we wanted to talk to you yesterday.”

Harrison's reaction was at best sceptical.  
“Forgive me for not buying into that, after all you were the one that named Minerva,” he said frostily.

Leonard's nerves tensed at the tone but he forced himself to calm down, not only because Harry could best him in seconds, but because he was interfering in something the other wizard had worked very hard to keep private...  
...Or at least it seemed that way with such a fierce reaction...  
He kept in mind the possibility that Harry was playing difficult to demand the most he could from him, but no, Riddle was quite capable of doing something like that but not Harry, not by everything he had seen of the man.

“I swear on my magic that Minerva hasn't told me anything about you.  
I gathered that she knew because she didn't fall from clouds when I mentioned it was a family matter.”

Something like acute relief flashed in Harry's eyes, but it lasted barely a second and afterwards he took his usual unaffected expression.  
“Say I believe you about Minnie, what about the tapestry, why would recognise me now of all years? Sorry if I don't buy it.”

Leonard reminded himself that Harry, while powerful and with a mysterious knowledge of his family's heirlooms, was a half blood orphan, he couldn't know everything.  
“Can I assume that you swore on your magic recently using your true name?” he started flippantly.

There was no verbal confirmation from Harry, but the sudden flash in his eyes was affirmation enough. Hearing no urging to continue but neither discouragement he set to explain the workings of the magical artefact.

“The magical properties of tapestries are set so that usually no new family member can be added if they're not named and recognised as such, but there is also the failsafe that if someone has enough family blood and claims the name in a magical oath that claim is recognised and the person's name gets recorded at the tapestry.”

“I see.” Harry didn't seem disturbed but neither did he seem particularly pleased by the revelation.

_Damn the Slytherin mask!_

“This sounds rather interesting,” Harry continued disinterestedly, “but I doubt that the pure blood families will be so open to the mistakes of their youth infiltrating their families and demanding part of the fortune reserved for the legal heirs.”

Leonard wondered if he was hearing some bitterness – _it was more than possible if his father had rejected him_ – but he ignored it for the time being. Harry responded much better to the information offering than the bold approach so far.  
The warmth was gone but so was the deadly anger.

“There is a safeguard; if the Lord of a house has a problem with his inheritors he can burn the name on the tapestry and disinherit either legal or illegal heirs, so there is no problem there.”

Harry shrugged.  
“It seems rather pointless to me.” He seemed more indifferent than ever, but to Leonard it finally looked like a reaction.

“Its not pointless, no one can take the name from someone recognised by a tapestry, even if they burnt it out, and if they manage to get Wizengamot's support they can challenge the disinheritance, or even simply come into everything in case they find themselves the only descendants of the house bearing the name.”

“Then it looks more than naive for you and your family to approach me as kinsman.” Harry answered softly.

There was an edge of cruelty in Harry's barb but Leonard recognised it for the test it was.  
“No, its not so. I would have been wary for some unknown kinsman, but I've known you for 2.5 years already. You've never acted without honour towards anyone, I trust you.”

Harry's eyes bore into his soul again.  
“The honour of a Slytherin?”

Leonard held his ground.

“There is no true difference in honour between Slytherin and Gryffindor, Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. I know certain Hufflepuffs who could easily stab a person to the back and Slytherins that haven't hurt a fly. Honour is a man's choice. I know you Harrison James Evans Potter and I trust you with my life.” he shuddered with the power of his informal oath.

A faint but kind smile graced Harry's lips.  
“I wasn't fathered by either your father or your uncle.”

Someone else would have tore their hair out hearing that, believing they were making cycles, but Leonard recognised in the tone what wasn't said and let out a sigh of relief.  
“I don't care if your father was Great Uncle Augustus, who died when I was three at a hundred and thirty; the only thing that matters to me is that you are a Potter and that I need your help.”

For a moment Leonard thought that he made the worst mistake of his life. Two minutes before Harry was threatening his life and now, in his enthusiasm, he was making demands. But Harry didn't seem to mind and while he wasn't as relaxed as, say, he was speaking with Minnie, the icy mask was gone.  
“What do you need from me?” he asked, softly and far more open than before.

Fleetingly, Leonard thought that he must be dreaming – no one was that fast with his help, never mind a Slytherin. But then that open attitude, more than their blood ties, got him his courage today. He started explaining.

“Eight years ago, my uncle James was killed by Grindelwald, or his men, in the taking of the Austrian ministry. My father wanted justice and he allied our family with Dumbledore, who was already talking against Grindelwald by then. Seven months ago, after it became apparent that the end of the muggle war's didn't affect the Dark Lord and instead he started hitting in England even more often, Dumbledore asked my father to approach Grindelwald and spy on him with the pretext that he wanted to sell his merchandise.   
A month later his hand, with the signet ring, was left at our door but no ransom was ever asked from us, no matter our inquiries. Dumbledore denied our pleadings to save him, saying it was much too dangerous, and only by the tapestry that never wrote a date of death we know he is still alive.”

He stopped to drew breath, as the recollection alone made him ill, never mind the concrete thoughts of what his father was possibly enduring. He met Harry's eyes and he had to clench his fists, else he'd cry at the compassion he saw there – compassion and a terrible understanding. Leonard was imagining what his father was suffering, Harry, somehow, didn't need to imagine. He knew.

It was that knowledge which made him open his mouth, confessing something he could hardly admit to himself.  
“Sometimes I think that it would have been better for him if they'd killed him instantly, instead of that...”

Harry stayed silent for a moment.  
“I can understand that, such prolonged torture can be worse than death.” he spoke in a matter of fact tone. “I suppose that you want me to save him.”

It wasn't a question.

Leonard reacted violently, as if he had been slapped. He couldn't bear mockery in this. But as he raised his fist to strike, he saw only honest concern at Harry's face, not only for his father, but for him as well; his hand fell down as if by itself.  
“No,” he barely managed to choke out, “I didn't come here to ask for this.”

The denial was killing him inside even as he uttered it.

Harry tilted his head and examined his face with cooling, but very penetrating, eyes.  
“You thought that I was your father's son, is that why you don't want me to save him?” he asked frostily.

Rage filled Leonard at this, so intense that he'd forgotten who was standing in front of him and what he wanted from him.  
“Listen here, you creep,” he growled, “I was upset, for my Mum's sake, when she told me about the added name, but he is my dad and I wouldn't discard him if he had ten bastard kids, not just one.”

A slow smile started stretching Harry lips and his eyes were again kind. It seemed that Leonard hadn't offended him with his outburst.  
“Why not? I wouldn't mind trying.” he wasn't kidding.

Leonard's anger vanished completely. He had forgotten how biting Evans' words could be, having never felt that acidic tongue used against him before. But it was never used without good reason. Truthfully he was more than relieved that he had passed the test.

“You said it, trying. So don't even think about this, not as long as Grindelwald lives. I won't have your blood at my hands. No one has ever managed to invade Nurmengard, or come out of it alive. You and Riddle handed the Dark Lord his arse but it could have easily gone the other way, I don't want your death on my conscience.”

Thankfully Harry didn't press if his conscience was stronger that his wish to get his father back,  
Leonard had the feeling that his conscience would fail.

“Then I believe the next best thing will be your Mum's protection, right? If Grindelwald had it with your family she will probably be the next target.” he added completely business like.

Leonard let out an expletive. _Damn he was good!  
_ “And my little sister, Annette,” he admitted softly, “she is only seven. Will you do it? Will you put them under your protection?” he phrased it calculatingly.

Harry's eyes flashed in understanding.  
“Of course I will,” he said with conviction, “what about you?”

Leonard flushed.  
“What about me? I'm in school, I don't need protection.” _Let him buy this..._

Harry snorted.  
“Yeah right you don't, but then why the hell did you risk participating in the battle. You would have been pretty safe in the Three Broomsticks.”

Leonard winced at the sarcasm and looked at Harry dumbfounded, he -of all people- dared to speak of staying away from a battle.  
“I couldn't, people were dying, I needed to help.”

Harry rubbed the back of his head, hesitating.  
“I can understand that and I appreciate your intentions, but while you are good at classroom defence there is a difference between this and real battle. Your mother has it, but not you, not yet, and it could have cost dearly...”

Leonard wanted to die from mortification. This was the last thing he ever wanted to accept, much less publicly admit, as it shamed and frightened him deeply, especially because it was true. He had been so overwhelmed in the mêlée and it had nearly cost him his mother's life. Yet, for Harry to care and talk to him about it, trying to be tactful to boot, meant that their blood ties meant something to the Slytherin, no matter how sparse. It was good to not be the only man in the family; his mother was going to order him to stay motionless for hours to no end at a corner like a kid, or worse, if she ever heard of it, but his father had drilled to him since he was a kid that the female members of the family were to be cared and protected and it was his duty, right, and privilege to do so.

Still, it stung, excruciatingly so, that he was unable to protect her alone, or even himself... never mind getting berated from Harry like a child.  
“We can't all be prodigies in defence, never mind the dark arts,” he said almost snottily. Harry rolled his eyes, unimpressed by his response.

“Who said anything about dark arts? Light magic can work just as nicely. What you truly lack is not spells' knowledge but the ability to cast silent and fast and a certain instinct.” he continued in a teaching tone.  
“All those are normally attainable with fight experience, but it certainly won't hurt if you trained more, so don't you dare miss the next gathering here.”

Leonard shifted nervously; this was getting into dangerous waters and weirdly sounded more and more like his father's lectures. He wasn't sure if he loved this or hated it, so he let it go for the unanswered questions, like when and where did Harry learned to fight in real battles and even more bizarrely, when washe tortured?

_Godric! He was getting way off topic in his mind._

“I will... okay... once they are safe I won't miss a single lesson, but how are you going to protect them?” _Good answer, directing things to something safe and useful..._

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment.  
“They will probably need watching all the time if they plan to continue to live openly, but unless they move to Hogsmeade it will be a bit difficult to do so as long as I'm a student.”

Suddenly Leonard felt stupid, had Harry not understood after all? His great idea after the panic of the battle now seemed rushed and not as well thought out as he believed it. Hastily he created another plan.  
“Of course I don't expect you to guard them all the time, only if there is another battle, but you have friends that could hide them.”

Harry examined him carefully.  
“Of course I have and I will ask anyone your mother and you think is proper, but wouldn't it be better if you seek refuge in Grimmauld Place? The Blacks are your blood and I have it in good authority that the wards are beyond measure.”

Leonard was shocked. Harry had understood perfectly what he was truly asking and demanded a payment, or at least the start of it. It was the form of it that was surprising.  
“I doubt that uncle Cepheous will be alright with this, our families hadn't been in speaking terms for five years,” he confessed.

“Oh,” Harry looked mighty uncomfortable, “I'm sorry to hear that,” and in a lighter tone.  
“Well that explains why you don't spend time with Alphard; I always wondered why you were not friends.”

For all the softness the comment was pointed, Leonard gritted his teeth. He didn't want to think about Alphard. Even after all those years, the insult hurt the most because he didn't contested it.  
“Is it not enough that he is a Slytherin and I'm a Gryffindor?”

“Nope,” Harry smiled cheekily; the most alive that Leonard had seen him this night.“Because he is blood and you are here.” Leonard sighed, aggravated. _Busted!  
_ “Can you tell me the reason of the feud?”

_...Again with that sympathetic tone..._

Leonard wondered for the nth time where a Slytherin could find such compassion, especially as he could bet his life that it was genuine.  
His frustration was apparent at his voice.  
“Because my dearest cousin, Walburga, had the gall to say in our face that mom had debased herself when she married my father and uncle Cepheous agreed wholeheartedly with her.”

Harry's eyes flashed, dangerously so, and he took an expression of such fury that Leonard almost stepped back.  
“Why, the little bitch..!” he took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. “I understand completely, Grimmauld Place is completely unsuitable, but what's Alphard's place in the whole mess?”

Leonard barely held his smile back to that violent reaction; Harry had his own reasons to despise his horrible cousin, worse even than his own. _Problem solved!_ But then he asked again for Alphard...

_Did he never give up on anything?_

“He did nothing, okay.” Leonard clenched his fists. “He was my best friend, my cousin, and he did nothing while my mother was insulted, in her own house. How could I trust him ever again after this?” he collapsed, on the conjured chair behind him, panting. Leonard was surprised that it still hurt so much...

Harry sat opposite of him, only opening his mouth when he'd calmed.  
“He was a kid, like you, barely thirteen... and blameless for that disaster. Maybe -and I can't believe I'm saying this- you should start to blame the adults and making your own decisions.”

Leonard was speechless; Harry wasn't saying anything profound, but he hadn't thought of that matter in years. In the start he was too angry and later, since Alphard had done nothing to bridge the chasm, assumed that it was better like this. But now, even if his cousin wanted nothing to do with him, he could try and keep his pride intact, as he was doing it for his debt to Harry.

Harry's knowing smirk was truly Slytherin and very irritating, Leonard did his best to ignore it...

But Harry wasn't one of those that wasted their time...  
“Back to the matter at hand, Grimmauld Place is out. I wouldn't suggest Malfoy Manor, Brax is okay but his parents are so stuck up that they could drive people to Unforgivables.”

Leonard laughed, surprised. He was used to ridiculing the most pompous of pure bloods with his classmates, but even the brassiest Gryffindors used more hooded comments. Again, Harry was acting as anything but Slytherin.

“That bad, huh?” _Again that cheeky smile..._

“You have no idea, talk about stiff!” Harry accompanied this with wide, ebullient hand gestures.  
“We were invited during the summer for a small soirée and I was never more bored in my life... Bins' lessons were party-like in comparison... Thankfully, Tom impressed them and they shut up.”

Leonard was in stitches but Riddle's mention sobered him up. It could be so easy to become friends with Harry, but he couldn't afford it, not yet – secret allies yes, but never openly friends.

Harry of course noticed.  
“He may be a bastard at times, but he's not that bad.” that had been said in pure frostiness.

Leonard winced. The last thing he needed to completely piss his life was to insult one, or even the both, of them.  
“Believe me Harry,” he used the other's name as proof of his sincerity, “I have nothing personal against Riddle; especially in the last years, but the further I am from him the safer both of us will be.”

Harry's brows furrowed, but thankfully he didn't ask anything more, for now...  
“Your best bet to stay is the Prince family; they are truly kind people and will take care of you. I will speak with Zev tonight to arrange it so that you could move there over the holidays.”

Leonard didn't expect something so fast but he knew that Harry was as good as his word.  
“Thank you!” he said, overwhelmed.

“If it's bothering you to be indebted,” Harry started, taking his reaction for reluctance, “you can move to muggle Australia for a while or, at least, until Grindelwald bites the dust... If you can do it and not stand out like a sore thumb, that's it.”

“Muggle?” Leonard questioned faintly.

Harry shrugged, looking both uncomfortable and defiant.  
“There's no need to get your y-fronts in a twist; it was just an idea and not a very popular one, even these days.”

“No, no, it was a brilliant idea,” Leonard almost babbled, “I just didn't expect it from... you.”  
Truthfully, to hear this from Riddle's partner, who turned green at the mention of muggles, went beyond surprising.

“I'm a half blood.”  
Harry's measured tone sounded like a slap after the freer manner.

“I know and I'm sorry, okay,” Leonard apologised eagerly, “but it's not easy to completely disregard Dumbledore's dictations.”

Harry's head tilted quizzically, his eyes quite intense.  
“Why would you want to? Professor Dumbledore is quite acknowledged for his wisdom and allied to your family for almost a decade...”

That was a test if Leonard heard one, but even if it wasn't, the reply burst from within almost without his control.

“You are kidding me, right? The man sent my father to spy for him, totally without support, left him in Nurmengard to rot, without the slightest attempt to get him out of there, no matter our pleads and when Grindelwald was ready to bite the dust what did he do... he sauntered in, chatted him up and in the end he helped him escape!”

There was a small smile on Harry's lips, upon watching him ranting that was only slightly kinder than Riddle's own smirk yet knowing in the same infuriating way.  
“Are you sure about that? Dumbledore may just have asked him to surrender, for all you know.”

Leonard fumed; the damn Slytherin was playing with his nerves.

“Oh please, I was there, it wasn't necessary to hear them to understand, body language was plain enough. That was flirting plain and simple.” he made a face: he had nothing against same sex relationships, but the thought of Dumbledore with Grindelwald was turning his stomach and not only for their age. The implications were staggering...

“So?” the question seemed to have a thousand meanings...

He tried to decipher the other's tone, Harry wasn't smiling anymore and Leonard wondered if he had done something to offend him, then he got it and had to mentally kick himself. This went beyond stupid as a mistake.  
“Oh, I didn't meant it like that; I don't have a problem with what he dates; only Grindelwald.” he blushed.

Agreeably, he wasn't much for tact, but he hoped this pointed things across... it didn't seem to, Harry's face closed further, obviously not getting where he was going.  
“Will you please stop mentioning Dumbledore's love life,” Harry cut him hastily. “It makes me want to barf.”

Leonard let out a barking laugh. _This was something he could get behind_.  
But the laugh almost immediately turned into an inward sigh. There was a reason he was a Gryffindor instead of Slytherin, for all his mother's disappointment, he was pants at mind games.

It seemed he had to spell things out.  
“I couldn't care to discuss this, even less than you, but if the supposed leader of the light is so close to the Dark Lord how can I trust him to not whisper to him to finish my father off if I show public support to you and your cause?”

Harry looked beyond shocked with this, now whether this was because he hadn't thought Dumbledore capable of doing something like that, or more probably for Leonard to think it, it didn't matter... what it did was that his openness finally created a crack to the other's mask.  
“Then he is probably already suspicious, he told Minerva that she should consider if she wanted to remain his apprentice.”

Leonard let out the worst swear word he could think of; this was indeed bad, _no wonder Alphard was sick with worry.  
_ “I can keep his suspicions at bay for a time, especially if I continue acting the same way as before and tell him that I sent Mum and Annette to the muggle world. Even he doesn't have the resources to verify or deny this.”

Harry's thick brows creased at this. He looked sceptical at the very best, distrustful at worst.  
“I don't think it's such a good idea, Dumbledore isn't half as trusting as it plays it, you and your family will be much safer to the muggle world, it will be also safer if neither I nor Dumbledore have the address.”

Leonard was ready to yell at Harry for withdrawing his protection that fast, but at a second thought he realised that it wasn't the case, he was simply strongly encouraging him to stay safe while keeping himself so as well. For it was becoming apparent that it had crossed Harry's mind that Leonard was setting him up, which wasn't as crazy as it sounded – it was only months ago that he and the other Gryffindors called him and Riddle Grindelwald's apprentices. Well, he appreciated the offer to get away from everything but he had made his decision, he was going to open his cards completely and whatever happened... happened.

Leonard fell on his knees.  
“I Charlus Leonard Potter acknowledge you, Harrison James Evans Potter, as my liege Lord,” he started hastily, “and swear on my magic, my full allegiance, obedience and devotion...”

He didn't have the time to finish with his oath. Harry grabbed his extended hands but, instead of recognising his pledge, raised him violently to his feet.  
“What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?” he snarled furiously.

Leonard gulped, on the verge of true panic, under the furious green gaze of a _very_ angry Lord, and his rising magic, but held his ground.  
“You were ready to dismiss me, believing me a liar, I can't have that, and I meant every word... Dumbledore's manipulations have endangered my family for the last time ... I don't want to run like a coward to the muggle world, I would rather serve you.”

Harry still looked a bit cross after he finished his small speech but it was rapidly changing into incredulousness.  
“Are you out of your bloody mind?” he spluttered, “You want to exchange your freedom for servitude? And not only that, you go for it without securing anything in exchange...”

Leonard smiled; this reaction, more than anything else, justified his decision.  
“I already got what I asked for, you promised to care for my family, and I'd rather play my part in this, supporting my beliefs and you, then stay uninvolved and a victim.”

Harry still looked exasperated.  
“This is your freedom though; I can understand your reasons, all too well, but I don't believe you truly thought out what you are doing.”

He felt his own irritation rising. There was true empathy in Harry's words but he didn't believe that the reluctant Lord had a true understanding of his situation. He was truly between a rock and a hard place... Leonard tried for nonchalance.  
“This is the wizarding world's way, there had been Lords and Ladies since ancient times... it doesn't degrade me to follow you.”

Harry pierced him with his eyes.  
“But what about your true beliefs?” there was a tinge of sarcasm in Harry's voice...  
“Forgive me, but I thought that you were a Light wizard.”

Leonard stood proud.  
“I am,” he smiled. “That doesn't mean I'm blind or idiot. Neither one of us is typical and I've chosen you for a reason...” he took a deep breath, it looked like Harry wasn't going to quit until he knew everything.

“You speak like I truly have a choice, Dumbledore has been fixated on Riddle from the first year and even before, I believe... I'm far from a fan of the guy but, at least then, had been nothing but polite to everyone and the Slytherins constantly tortured him mercilessly due to his blood...” a deep breath.  
“...Whatever he did to them to shut them up was well deserved... he was neither unprovoked nor mentally unbalanced. So there is but only one explanation for Professor's Dumbledore uncharacteristically swift judgement, he recognised that Riddle had to be a Lord as well and tried to stave the competition from the start, not exactly moral, yes?”

Harry looked ready to answer his half question, or add his own, but Leonard cut him over, not wanting to leave even the slightest doubts on where he stood.

“Now Riddle – It was obvious how stronger magically he was from the rest of us from the very start and how remote, although polite. There was an edge of cruelty there and viciousness against anyone daring to target him. A clash with Dumbledore had been all but preordained, even without Grindelwald on the game.” another one, deeper.  
“The last years that nastiness had been eased a great deal and I deeply respect his ideas and intellect. That doesn't mean that I'm sure of his honesty, regarding said ideas, and even if I was, there is still a coldness in him that doesn't allow me to follow him freely.” 

Leonard met Harry's eyes head on for the last bit ...  
“You are my best bet...You are too immersed in the Dark Arts to be a Light Lord, yet you act like the best of them and are far more honest than Dumbledore as far as I can see. I will follow you to the death.”

Harry, who was deep in thought, blushed, surprised and uncomfortable, for a moment.  
“You called me a Lord?” he chose the most obvious of Leonard's points to comment on.

Leonard was even more surprised... _was it possible that Harry wasn't aware of the true extent of his powers?  
_ Well, it wasn't impossible, he didn't have the education of a pureblood heir and while well read wasn't intensely studious as say Granger or Riddle. More so, he doubted that Riddle wanted him to know. There was no doubt he cared about his kinsman, the shift to his behaviour at the last few years was proof of that, but Leonard had his doubts that Riddle was the type to willingly concede even a small measure of his control to other people.

“Of course you are a Lord,” he said light-heartedly, “there is no other word for your level of power, have you never thought about it? Did no one inform you?”

Harry shrugged a bit sheepishly.  
“Not really, not in those terms, but Tom brought the matter up once.”

Leonard barely managed to not gape.  
The fact that it was Riddle of all people that told him was making his head spin. “Really?” he managed.

Harry glared.  
“It's none of your business but yes, really.”

Leonard smiled almost giddy with relief.  
“Then I was proven right in choosing to follow you.”

“How so?” Harry's voice was cool but not cold, he was deducing again.  
“You just said that you've never liked or trusted Tom, why would his opinion, or acts, matter to you?”

Leonard didn't have a single reason to feel bad, or hide the truth... . Or so he told himself.  
“He is a rising Lord, _a Dark one._ I spent half my teens scared to death of his open dislike of muggles and what he was planning to do with that... until you came, that is...” his admiration bled through and he blushed deeply embarrassed by it.

“I never expected him to willingly share power, yet he did. You balanced him out and slowly he changed his ways, not much really, but it was enough. No muggleborns were attacked by Slytherins any more, no insults were thrown...he even came to the point to shout publicly that he is a half blood...All thanks to you.”

Leonard didn't have the time to finish the last part; Harry's wand was at his neck.  
“Where did you hear the last part? Was it from Orion, I have seen you two talk?” he whispered menacingly.

Leonard trembled as he understood that in his enthusiasm he said too much. It didn't help matters that he felt Harry's magic sizzling; ready to destroy him at a wrong word...  
“No, it was Cy; but please don't hurt him, he didn't mean harm, he was just impressed.” he pleaded.

“He is a little kid,” Harry spat, “Of course not, but you are not, how dare you to use him? How much more do you know and how much did you tell Dumbledore?”

Leonard wondered fleetingly how he found himself in such a mess after managing to stay clean of it the majority of his Hogwarts' years.  
“I didn't use him, we were simply talking. Anyway, I didn't say a word to Dumbledore and didn't plan to, for many reasons, one of them is that Cy is family and that is sacred. Believe me, please.”

The wand didn't lower.  
“What exactly did you heard and what were the other reasons?” Harry was relentless.

Leonard steadied himself. In this he needed to get believed.“Cy told me about Walburga's punishment and Riddle's speech about his plans for our world's future, I believe in magical equality. If Riddle believes half of what he said, I will gladly follow him as well.”

“Really?” Harry threw the word back to him but with much more sarcasm.

“Yes really,” he said with as much sass as he dared.

Harry tilted his head in disbelief.  
“You want to tell me that you're okay with torture? I believed you about your family but this is going a bit too far don't you think?”

Leonard winced, he much preferred to not think about that at all, but he was resigned to it all the same. Still his nerves got seriously tested with the pressure. _Did he never quit?_ He couldn't believe he was thinking it but he gained a bit of sympathy for Riddle...  
 _Godric, where the world was heading to?_

“I'm far from okay with torture, but I don't blame Riddle for this, Burga wouldn't have stopped otherwise. Also my mother is a Dark witch –who, the hell, am I to tell her what magic to use?” he explained with as much patience as he could.

Harry looked at him surprised, even after everything it looked like this was too much.  
“Suppose that I accept this, for how long can I expect this compliance to last?”

Leonard had enough.  
“For Godric's sake if you'd just accepted my oath you wouldn't have a reason to doubt me.”

A strange flash passed from Harry's eyes but Leonard wasn't able to decipher it this time.  
“Maybe, but I prefer to surround myself with free willed people, I find that I can trust them more due to initiative.”

Leonard was ready to start hitting his head in sheer frustration. He tried one last thing.  
“Fine,” he gritted out. “Quit your games, you can't trust my mere words and don't want my oath... alright... one of your best friends is a future Potions' Master, can't Prince brew veritaserum for us? I will cover the expenses.”

Harry laughed openly at this and Leonard at last recognised the light in his eyes, the devilish but not malicious amusement.  
“Finally, I wondered how long it would take for you to act completely natural. I couldn't trust you otherwise, oath or not. When we’d come to a final agreement it will include veritaserum but it won't be necessary for you to pay,” he said calmly.

Leonard was incredulous.  
“You waited for me to snap at you?”

Harry smiled.  
“Of course -you are a Gryffindor- that and to show some initiative. I hate toads I don't trust them and they are truly useless to me...”

Leonard could understand that, still, something smarted.  
“I never toadied to you or anyone,” he protested proudly.

Harry nodded his agreement.

“No you didn't but I wanted to be sure. You were desperate and desperate people will agree too many things they will regret later and try to take back.” He flashed him a smile.  
“Think about it, you didn't even insist to find out how we are related.”

Leonard doubted that he could ever get on top on a war of words with this man, but still tried.  
“Would you have told me if I had?” he asked, truly curious.

Again that flashy smile...  
“No, not really, if you insist I will after the final agreement.”

Leonard relaxed.  
“Alright, I will wait, but just so you know, as you mentioned the useless part, there is more I can give than a fighter and spy which you find insufficient, so tell me your demands and I will make my offer,” he only half joked.

Harry nodded gravely; even if he humoured him he wouldn't do it for long.

“Fair enough, we will need support on the Wizengamot and for you to start nudging your friends if they can come to our side. Those are for after you're ready and your family is safe of course, but also in the further future. What is sorely needed now is someone that will either take the wounded away in a battle, or make sure that the innocent bystanders will stay away.”

Leonard wondered irritably at how useless Harry believed him to be, the demands were so logical that they were insulting.  
“My fighting style can improve so don't count me out yet and I can do better than simply support you on the Wizengamot. I can step down so someday you will become Lord Potter and even as an Heir you will have much more respect than before.”

Harry looked at him like he was crazy.  
“Will you stop that, what are you a Gryffindor or a Hufflepuff to give power over yourself just like that? Thanks for the offer but it won't be necessary.”

Leonard looked at Harry with bemusement-either the orphan part was a truly sensitive matter or he was way too noble.  
“It will not cost me as much as you think; even if I die you will need mother's support to claim it, so no chance to back on your word, but even if you don't accept it your children with Minnie will inherit the title as I'm sterile.”

This got a reaction out of Harry.

“This is incredibly generous of you,” he said, clearly at a loss. “But you missed that Minerva is dating Alphard now, not me, and even if she was I'm surprised that you will support it as you have made it repeatedly clear to the whole school that you believe that me and Tom are a couple.” Harry's voice rose in obvious anger at the last part.

Leonard was at a loss too. The guy was an enigma... _H_ _ow could he be such a player while keeping this kind of naiveté?_

“What's the one got to do with the other?” he asked, very carefully, as he had a feeling there was no guarantee that Harry wouldn't kill him this time. “You two have plans for a career to the Ministry, if not more, everyone can see that. But you will need a wife -preferably pureblood- for that, you already know it. Why not Min? You are very close friends and she gets you.”

Harry looked at him like it was the very first time – it was an upsetting feeling.  
“Assuming that I was alright with the innate deceit of such a staged marriage, as it could benefit me, what possible use could Minerva find in this, especially compared with Alphard's interest... a man who offers the same things but for much more genuine reasons?”

Leonard was forced to lower his eyes. Harry was the Slytherin and he the Gryffindor, but at that moment he felt lower than a scum. Still, while such a Hufflepuff naiveté was admirable, it was also misplaced, time to set things right.

“Firstly, who spoke about deceit? Minnie seems to already know what she gotten herself into and looks alright with that. Secondly,” and he had to bite his lips, it was a long time since they last spoke but he hated saying bad things about Alphard.  
“While my cousin really likes Minnie, and is probably truly in love with her, the moment he brings the matter to the family uncle Cepheous will play the disinheritance card and Alphard will be cowed. The only thing he could truly give her is to make her his official mistress, a bit of poisonous offer, no? As, even if he guarantees that the only kids he will have will be Minnie's and so there won't have that particular heartache, things will be far from ideal for her.”

“Because, even if she is crazy in love with him, she will miss the most important thing in the world for her: her career... The mistress of a rich pureblood will find work, probably as secretary, to the ministry but a vocation in Hogwarts and education in general is totally out of the question,” Harry finished for him in a blood freezing voice.

There were some warning bells in Leonard's mind due to the tone, but these were ignored due to the relief that Harry had understood and agreed with his position.  
“Then you will do the right thing and protect her?” he half demanded, half pleaded.

Harry's expression wasn't complimentary.  
“Of course I will. I will make damn sure he marries her and if he can't, I will. No one is going to insult her... but I wonder why you haven't offered her your own hand, as you care so much.”

Leonard gulped and barely managed to not open his collar, he thought that only Riddle was capable of that particular silky tone.  
“I can't, Min is like a sister to me, but also, I'm engaged to Melissa Longbottom. I like Meli very much, I wouldn't give her up even if Minnie fancied me,” he confessed almost shyly.

Harry's glare didn't ease.  
“That approach explains why you believed I'm your brother but not why not your cousin. You implied a certain similarity between your uncle and me, but it can't be that, as sexual preference seems to be irrelevant, except if been sterile is a usual affliction to the Potter line.”

Leonard flushed in a mixture of shame and anger. Harry's brutal tongue was totally unleashed but he had to admit in a small part of his mind that he brought it to himself with all that probing, time to pay the piper.

“I wouldn't know if my problem is common in my family, “he said, utterly embarrassed.  
“But Uncle James can't be your father because he never accepted Father's probing to marry and stayed faithful to his partner, Uncle Axel, to the very end. I don't believe that he could betray him after such fight and even less, in the crazy chance he did, would desert the result of this act.”

Harry nodded tensely, accepting. The matter was closed. But Leonard felt too humiliated to simply accept it.

“But it wouldn't be the same case for you,” he exclaimed...Then continued, more bravely than he felt.   
“Riddle may have gotten engaged as a social necessity, but you have dated and are too honest to have simply used them, so you must like girls too. I've watched you; you have a definite weakness to strong women, not only strong but ambitious ones, else you would have tried to date Augusta Wilson or Muriel Prewett, before she graduated. Your preference is the feminist ones, like Granger, Pierce, Bones, or our Minnie. Come on admit it, why would you want to lose that part of your nature?”

“Or,” Harry said offhandedly, _a clear warming,_ “you have finally realised that Tom and I are only close friends and you simply don't want to admit that you made a mistake.”

It was a warning indeed, but Leonard was so shocked by the absurdity of the suggestion that he paid no heed to it.

“You are kidding me right? I know couples, deeply in love, that act less couple like than you two, no way is this only friendship. Always looking at each other's eyes, lost on your own little world, always dragging each other off to somewhere, holding hands. Even when you don't touch each other each and every move accommodates the other.” he whistled. “The only thing you two haven't done is to publicly snog in the great hall..!”  
 _He was totally amazed now that considered every single detail._

“Enough.” Harry's voice was sharper than a whip. Leonard raised his head, totally stunned by how huge this thing was. Harry's eyes were glittering madly but he didn't pay the due attention, still lost in his understanding.

“It's certainly not only on your way, why else would Riddle would get betrothed to a muggle born, or mudborn, as is the new Slytherin word, and so bossy a mudborn too... he could snatch a huge dowry, why would give that up if not for-” Leonard didn't finish his words, a powerful fist crashed into his lips and he found himself on the floor with his mouth filled with blood and two separated teeth, not to mention how many of them were moving.

“I said that was enough.” Harry was standing above him with a white as sheet face , bloodless lips, and crazy eyes. His magic was almost totally, violently, unleashed. He helped Leonard on his feet, none too gently, and shook him aggressively.  
“You will never speak of any of this to me or anyone else,” he instructed carefully, “do you understand? Especially not a word about Hermione...”

Leonard shook his head to clear it and spat out the teeth and blood. He raised two placating hands.

“Alright I won't, I swear, but what's the deal with Granger?” he was resigned that his curiosity was going to be the death of him.  
“She is a muggleborn if I ever saw one, and I could call her American with her ideas, if she had but a smudge of accent. Definitely not a Prince, with the way your friend Zevi looks at her.”

Harry looked even madder with this. He shook him once more and grabbed his collar, cutting partially the airway.  
“None of your business; now listen carefully, if you spill a word of this again I will find you and whatever you ever feared Tom doing to you will be nothing compared to what you will suffer in my hands. Am I making myself clear?”

Leonard believed him and nodded trembling.

Harry, with what it seemed a Herculean control reined back his magic.  
“Good, you may go now; I will either speak with you tomorrow about the all clear with your mother and sister moving at Zevi's or will write you soon after.”

He shook his head warningly for Leonard to not open his mouth.  
“Don't worry, I won't forget it.”

Leonard counted for the door, still dazed, and, if he was honest, surprised he got away with his life. _Anyone that said that Harry was the easiest of the Slytherin duo didn't know what he talked about._

... He hadn't gone five steps when Harry spoke again...  
“Oh, and Leonard, I forgot. I have a couple more questions if you don't mind.”

Leonard didn't, but he doubted at this moment if it mattered. He turned back.  
“Shoot.”

Harry seemed determined and not mad anymore.  
“How long have you kept an eye on Tom for Professor Dumbledore?”

Leonard wasn't that sure that the danger was gone, the utter formality of the question was worrying him, _but what would be the use on lying now?  
_ “All those years, I wasn't exactly happy with this as a kid but as the years passed and Tom darkened more and more I came to terms with it.”  
 _Maybe he shouldn't have said the last part_  but, except a very brief flash to the green eyes, there was no reaction. He let out a sigh of relief.

“I see, and something more... you mentioned something about Dumbledore's interest on Tom before Hogwarts...care to elaborate?”

Leonard felt covered in cold sweat from head to toes, this was a loaded question, if he heard one, but he couldn't afford to lie...   
_They were all dead if Harry or Riddle heard of this from someone else._ He steeled himself.

“The last New Year's Eve before I started Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore came to feast with us. He was very disturbed and they sent me away so that the adults could talk in my father's office. No one expected that I would overhear, they didn't even bother with silencing charms, but I heard my name shouted. Dumbledore was speaking about a very weird boy, who was doing horrible things, and was going to end up in Slytherin. He wanted me to keep an eye on him in case I ended in the same house. My father pointed out that if he was that disturbed maybe he should simply check the kid to St Mungo's to take care of him instead of allowing him to Hogwarts. The professor said that he hadn't done enough, yet, to warrant such a measure. My mother asked if, in that case, it was better for a child with such delicate condition to stay in a magical house, instead of such a dreaded orphanage, and offered ours. Dumbledore asked her if she was ready to handle the case he snapped and hurt the little baby she was expecting... the matter was dropped immediately. Then they called me in and asked if I wanted to do it, I was curious, I agreed.”

The silence was so oppressive that it was deafening.

The previous time Harry's breaking took place a tiny crack at a time, now it occurred all at once. His face came close to animalistic, such was his rage... every control on his magic snapped and filled the room, almost to destructive capacity. Leonard was filled with atavistic terror and was incapable of doing a thing when an almost random burst of power blasted him to the wall.

He crashed with a huge crack and then slid down in a tangle to the floor. There were for certain broken bones, he only prayed that it wasn't his spine. Oddly, that seemed to momentarily break Harry from his psychotic break. Leonard saw real comprehension in his eyes for a moment. Then the blind rage was exchanged with grief.

The anguish was so thick that he could taste it and so potent that it was a form of madness in itself. Harry let out a blood freezing, agonising scream and curled into himself in foetal position, well beyond help, as his own magic turned against him.

_Leonard prayed that they would die soon._

* * *

~*~

* * *

But it had been only a couple minutes, at most, when the room's doors broke open and a staggering Riddle burst inside.

He ignored everything in the area except Harry and somehow managed to reach him.

He examined his vitals rapidly and then took him protectively in his arms. Leonard didn't need to know snake language to understand the meaning of the words. After a few moments even the whispering stopped, Riddle just stayed there holding him... but, some indefinable time later, the uncontrollable magic calmed down and some time after that Harry's breathing did as well.

Riddle laid him tenderly on a bed and started advancing towards Leonard decisively.

Leonard himself was aware of - _only-_ two things: one, he was hurting terribly everywhere, something that, he was sure, had almost nothing to do with his broken bones and two: he was probably still approaching his last moments.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS Edited at 10/08/2014  
> Please review to inspire me for more...


	6. The Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ray of hope...

**Chapter Six: The Stone**

_**Tom's pov** _

Tom M. Riddle was pacing in the chamber of secrets beyond agitated, Harry was late. Maybe he wasn’t going to come. But no, he had promised that they were going to discuss about their next strategy and Harry always kept his word.  _But maybe not this time...  
_ _Perhaps he had been too final with him. Maybe, if he had been less absolute, Harry wouldn’t have looked at him with such hurt and betrayal and worse with that dead gaze. Nothing could have been worst than this... ._

The Stone was hopelessly beyond reach and everything else was too risky, unless as last resort, and Tom wasn't even close to admit this, so gaining time would have been simply out of the question. Harry knew him all too well; a single evasive move and they would have the same or even worst, an explosion of rage that could have been deadly.

So no, anything softer than this and Harry would have kept on pressuring, Tom had been on the brink of giving in already, giving anything that Harry would ask, a limitless disaster on it’s on. Nothing good would have ever come from it if he did; only annihilate both of them in the same strike.

Tom know himself all too well, once he had Harry he would prefer to destroy him than ever give him up and yet, for all those vast (incomprehensive) emotions, there was still the too close possibility that Harry didn't truly share his feelings, that it was simply an expression of the alarming dependence of the last years, yet the odds were that the martyr would chose to stay with him anyway. He didn't know if he could live with this...

... _So totally unacceptable_...

No, it was better if Harry was angry with him; maybe after a time he could let slip in some way that he simply couldn't deal with his feelings, yet. His friend could accept that, and after Harry was back to himself he had an eternity to truly win him. Tom wasn't sure if he lied to himself even now, the memory of those emotionless eyes was killing him.

He cast an unnecessary tempus, for a last check, late, really late... _Harry wasn't coming.  
_ Their link felt so closed off that Tom couldn’t even sense where his friend was. _He had done what he must_... his fists tightened until it drew blood...he needed to control himself, _Harry was strong..._ despair was out of the question.

Tom had gotten to the point that he started taping at their link, to no result...

But suddenly their connection was wide open and the only thing he could sense was fury, immeasurable one. It took him a moment to take it apart from his own emotions, but before he could calm and use it to get Harry’s bearings the next emotional wave hit.  
 _Remorse,_ so strong he cried out falling on his knees... _too strong_... the horcrux was fluttering like crazy to get back on its source but he kept on fighting to keep it inside him. When he was sure he couldn't fight it anymore the struggle stopped.

Tom was on his feet and out of the chamber the same second, he wasn't clear minded enough to know for sure what happened but he could sense that somehow it was even worst than before.

He ran, as never in his life, for the R room. Mind flying as to how he could get inside. When he reached it Tom felt the first scrap of relief. The door was appearing and disappearing rapidly, this meant that Harry still had some sort of awareness. He didn't focus any more thoughts to it, though; at the next appearance he blasted his way within.

Inside, it was a worst mess than London after a bombing and Harry was curled around himself in the centre of everything, looking far closer to death than simply unconscious. Even the magic was dying out, without his friend’s conscious initiative, and that terrified Tom most than anything. The next moment he held Harry in his arms. His friend’s temperature was low, but not unhealthily so, his pulse slow, but not dangerous so. In short, nothing in his bodily condition was life threatening. It was his mind that worried Tom...

This wasn’t the normal kind of unconsciousness. Harry wasn't responding, even minimally, in either sound or touch, worst, while the horcrux remained intact their link was fading, like Harry. Tom didn’t waste time with simple Legilimency; he dived straight to the bond. His first reaction was relief; Harry’s mind wasn’t truly fading, like if he was dying, it was simply receding in itself to avoid the pain. At a closer look the worry returned and increased, this was too concentrated to be an involuntary action. Harry was doing this to himself deliberately.

What it followed was literally a fight for Harry’s mind and soul.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Harry’s current mindscape was a pleasant surprise though it took him a moment to recognise the place. It was their compromise of the R room, an open space with no furniture except their couch and fireplace and an open sky But the comfort ended there. The room was cast in odd misty shadows with only a few embers in the fireplace breaking the numb greyness. It looked deserted. Even the sky was adding to the miserable mood, not with the usual greyness of a heavy storm, but the much duller one of pollution. It was near impossible for Tom to find Harry in this.

“Harry?” he shouted frantically, again and again, as he searched into the mist.  
Finally, he spotted a tiny move and focused there all his attention.  
“Harry?”

It was indeed Harry, the mists parted a bit and he was able to get a closer look at his friend. Harry was hunched defeated against a wall, dressed in the worst of his Dursley rags, yet had his most intensely stubborn expression.  
Tom barely held back an oath-he had his work cut for him.

“You shouldn't come here, Tom.” it was said in a matter of fact, emotionless, voice.

Tom discovered he couldn't even try to mock Harry for this.  
“You knew I would.”  
Still, it got out far kinder than he expected.

Harry slumped even worst against his wall.  
“I know,” he sighed, “I was both dreading and hoping for the chance to see you one last time.” Harry’s eyes widened and his face paled at the admitted weakness, looking more vulnerable than, probably, ever in his life.

Tom’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, _hmmm_ , it seemed that so deep inside their linked minds it was impossible to truly lie at each other and themselves, he needed to be extra careful.  
“You don’t really believe that I will simply leave you to destroy yourself?” he asked conversationally.

Something very warn passed from Harry’s eyes, but only for a second and then refroze in steely resolve.  
“Not this time Tom, I tried, but I simply cannot go on anymore, I almost killed Leonard today.”

Tom hated and was terrified of that resolve; his only chance on convincing Harry to relent was to break him and that icy calmness, to destroy his peace with his own death. It was time to leave games aside for now.  
“I couldn't care less about your grandfather, the whole world can burn away and if you’re okay I would be too.”

Harry’s eyes got alight and he blushed scarlet.  
“Psycho.” he muttered, but it sounded more than fond. That only lasted for an instant though, the next second he restarted the fight.  
“You may not care, but I do, I would rather die than hurt someone blameless. This is the right thing.”

Tom’s control over his anger, never his strongest point, tested severely hearing this utter nonsense.  
Still, with supreme effort, he reined in it, for the moment.  
“Care to explain how exactly you concluded that turning yourself catatonic and leaving everything we built behind is the right thing?” he asked archly.

Harry opened his mouth, probably to shout him that he heard nothing, but for once Tom was faster. He had angered Harry,  
but not enough, not yet.  
“And don’t you even dare telling me that’s because of the slight chance of hurting an idiot that angered you someday in the future,”...

 _...'You idiot martyr!'_   wasn't said but heard alright.  
From Harry’s expression he certainly didn't care for either his tone or implications.

“Damn it Tom, you didn't hear anything that I said, this is not something that may happen in the future, it happened already and will probably happen again and again.” he took a deep breath and continued in a much softer tone.  
“I know that you care and will miss me, but you will be okay, you will have the whole world at your feet soon enough.” it was quite apparent that while he believed it on some extent he was mostly trying to convince himself.

Tom had enough of this idiocy, he exploded and the words spilled out of his mouth, for the first time in his life, without his control.

“Will you stop with this shit?” Harry’s mouth left hanging open upon hearing him swear.  
“If you believe that I will ever accept losing you then your intelligence has taken an unacceptable dive... don’t even think about making me state the reason.” he let the last vestiges of his guard down, for a second, to avoid any misconception.  
“Just take my bloody hand and let’s leave here before we get stuck.” he didn’t use the word please but it was more than implied.

Harry merely looked at him for a second, beyond shocked but with the hint of something warmer than the sun, then the moment was gone and he exploded in such a furious rage that the whole mindscape trembled like under the strongest earthquake.  
“You have no right to bring this up, you hear me, not after today, not ever again. Now get out my mind.”

It was impossible to not feel Harry’s pain, at this moment and place in time it was his own, still Tom managed to not stumble and play it far calmer than he actually felt.  
“If you mean this morning, it was just a miscalculation, no one else is crazy or masochist enough to ever take your place, nor I wish it, and you know it.”

Harry didn't even deign to react in the insult; he simply glared at him, thoroughly unimpressed.  
“I don’t believe you, you know me better than this. I can survive with any rejection, even yours, just fine.” he told him bitterly. “You win nothing by ignoring the true problem.” the words were more fuelled by anger than conviction.

Tom glared right back, Harry was dreaming on if he believed, even for a second, that he could buy he meant that little to the other, but he didn't correct him, there was going to be ample time for this after he snapped Harry from this self made hell.  
“Very well, if you are so afraid of yourself we can move somewhere alone until we fix the problem.”

Harry looked truly gobsmacked with this.  
“You meant right now, to abandon the school before graduation and your ambitions for however long, you kidding me?”

Tom admitted, to himself at least, that it was a stretch for Harry to believe him. Still without other options in sign, this was going to be.  
“Yes, for as long as it takes.” he confirmed.

The surprise didn’t last long...  
“I don’t believe you.” Harry stated. “The moment we will be out you will take it back and find something else, so thank you for the offer,  
but I prefer my own solution.”

 _Damn your stubborn head to hell!_  
Tom swore inside with feeling, yet he tried semi calmly once more.  
“Harry...?”

Huge green eyes met his, desperate but determined.  
“Leave it Tom, the matter is over. Now get out of here before I destroy you.”

Tom knew that tone, Harry meant this, and he could do it easily too, as, at this moment, he was anchored at nothing but Harry.  
Still, he did nothing to disentangle their souls and minds.  
“How about no?” he smiled giving the other a taste of his own medicine.

There was another earthquake.  
“Tom, get out of here...Now.” Harry wasn’t even trying to hide his despair anymore.  
“The seal is closing; you will get trapped here forever too.”

Tom smiled again, _all or nothing_ , _time to gamble_.  
“You know the answer to this.”

As another tremble was shaking Harry’s mind he sat on the couch and lay back completely relaxed.  
“So Harry, what will it be?”

Harry looked at him, at what it felt like centuries, but was probably a single moment.  
“Damn you to hell and back, Tom, you utter bastard.” he grabbed Tom’s hand.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Tom opened his eyes and blinked again to complete awareness. He met Harry’s, fully there, intelligent, eyes for a moment and held him tighter as his friend lost his battle with exhaustion, after all the terrible amount of magic he had done. Once he was sure that Harry was truly asleep he laid him on a bed to rest. He had only until his friend’s awakening to work out a truly viable solution, if he didn't, the next step was to keep his informal promise, (until the end of vacation at least) but he was far from without options. 

Turning to leave, his eyes fell on Leonard (he had forgotten him for a moment) and a chilling smile stretched his lips. The elder Potter was proving himself more a player than he had given him credit so far and there was no real way to predict what he could know. _So time to find out what really happened._

Also, the last time he checked, Leonard was Dumbledore’s man; he couldn't completely discard the possibility of a trap.  
Leonard lay on the floor and the unnatural stance of his body indicated more than a few broken bones and he trembled in apparent shock. _Unwilling or not, Harry had done him a thorough job...The look of sheer terror to his face was very gratifying too..._

Tom didn't waste time in pleasantries; unless Leonard had an excellent reason for this, he was going to end obliviated or dead, he grabbed him none too gently and broke into his mind.  
“Wha?”

Surprisingly Potter had an adequate mental shield, nothing he couldn't get past in few moments, but it raised his estimation considerably. So did his reasons for tonight, and if his opinions, and some facts, irritated him it wasn't worth it to kill him right now.   
 _Useless_... _The whole thing was mildly interesting and it could prove valuable to the future, but for now it was totally useless._ Tom dropped Leonard where he found him and drew his wand to obliviate him when he noticed something interesting. 

The reactions he had chalked up to shock were far stronger than that and were intensifying by the second. _Maybe just maybe?_  
Something like hope flared inside Tom.  
“Harry is dying and as you owe him multiple life-debts your own magic is acting against you, when - _if_ \- he dies you are going to follow him.”

The surprise was enough that it snapped Leonard from his terror.  
“But how? He freed me from them.”

Tom glared heatedly, the moments were crucial and he would much prefer to just take what he needed to know, as fast as possible, but this could have too many benefits to not use some delicacy. _Harry’s relative_ , he reminded himself and answered the question.  
“Harry may have released you but did you release yourself?” he pointed out.

That stopped Leonard to think, for a moment. He gulped.  
“I -no- I owe him too much. Tell me how to help, please?”

The Gryffindor radiated sincerity, Tom didn't have much choice; the reaction wouldn't have been that strong if Leonard wasn’t capable to help.  
“The only cure to Harry’s condition is the Philosopher's Stone. Do you know or suspect the Flamels’ hiding place?”

A good deal of Leonard’s eagerness died out.  
“I have heard of the Flamels, of course, but never met them.”

That was fallowed immediately by another sharp shot of pain. Leonard tried to protect his dignity by not screaming out, but his face was rather telling, and even more so, the desperate way he held up his belly.

Tom didn't need to pressure more, after the pain seemed to ease Potter glanced briefly at Harry and caved.  
“My family has a summer house in Godric’s hollow, the immediate neighbours to the left are a middle-aged couple named Nick and Nell Fleming. There is a possibility to be those you seek, as they moved there at the start of the war...”

Tom didn't ask for more information, as Leonard prattled out he eased into his mind slowly and skilfully so to not gain the Gryffindor’s attention. The faces into his memory didn't match exactly the photos he had seen in Harry’s time, but the differences were rather simple:   
 _Different hair colouring, facial hair and subtle glamours... it was a match..._

He returned his attention on Potter exactly as the other finished with:  
“...I will take you there.”

Tom almost laughed at the Gryffindor’s face; Leonard’s attempt at manipulation was pathetic. Still he only responded with a court:  
“I know the way.”

Leonard’s face crumbled.  
“You won’t kill them, will you?” he asked between horror and childlike faith.

Tom didn't bother answering him. He concentrated on calling his followers (and Granger) and spent the next, tortuously wasted, five minutes ignoring the Gryffindor and his increasing pathetic pleas.

Alphard with Minerva were the first to arrive. Tom restrained himself to a scatting glare on Alphard, the silent promise of a later punishment, and not a word to Minerva. Her angry hiss to Leonard:  
“What did you do, you idiot?” added to that and was mildly amusing.

Thankfully for his, much limited, patience Abraxas, Zevi and Granger were there promptly. Hermione took one look at the room and her eyes filled with understanding and tears, but she was intelligent enough to not contradict his standing orders in the slightest. He trusted her enough to fill the others in at an acceptable manner.

“Heal him,” he indicated Leonard, “but don’t let him leave here until I return, if he lied I will deal with him. As for Harry, keep him asleep at any cost, I want constant guard, of at least two, through the night.”

The others nodded their understanding, knowing much better than dare thinking to disagree right now. He turned to leave, but changed his mind mid-step, Harry had been right; Voldemort met his end from been careless.  
“Abraxas, with me.”

“Wait.” Leonard cried out.

Tom was tempted to simply curse him before leaving but the very real threat may have loosened the Gryffindor’s tongue to an impending trap. He turned barely his head.  
“Speak.”

Leonard dug clumsily on his bag and dragged out a shimmering cloak.  
“Here.” he said determinedly. “This isn't like most cloaks; it will help you to avoid the traps, so you won’t need to kill anyone. I'm giving it to you in Harry’s name.”

 _Well, well_ , Tom would have recognised this magical signature anywhere, it was making a ridiculous kind of sense. _Where else could have been the third hallow but on the other Perevell descendants_... Granger’s gasp of recognition was almost a direct insult to his intelligence _.  
_ _How could he miss something so simple?_

Leonard had been proven rather cunning too, by giving him the cloak, but in reality not giving it to him at all.  
He didn't thank the other, but offered a nod of acknowledging all the same.  
 _When he returned back there was an added topic to talk about with his idiotic hero._

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

_**Alphard's pov** _

Alphard kissed Minerva again and again, having lost count of how many times he had done it already. The only fleeting concern, was making sure to not stray from her lips, it could be too easy for things to get derailed after that. He didn't want things to get too far, not tonight. Minnie wasn't from those girls, engaged since birth, that tried to live up before marriage with their betrothed’s tolerance, or without. _She was special_...Alphard had known her and had a very soft spot for her, since way back; he just never dared to hope of having a real chance with her due to circumstances.

Now everything was different, Minerva was going to become his wife and by his own choice, not his father’s. That didn't mean he didn't plan to make love to her before marriage, if she was amendable, but it wasn't going to happen in a dark alcove near the common room and definitely, not this night, not when both of them were so tense.

Minerva had brought someone to meet Harry tonight. She hadn’t told him who and he didn’t ask, but it wasn’t that difficult to guess. Unless he or she was a teacher, that only left Alastor Moody, John Lupin, and his cousin, the only of her friends left in the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

With such odds it wasn't even worth it to bet and that left him with a queasy stomach. He hadn’t talked with his cousin for years and years, but he never wished him harm. Harry, had been brooding, at best, the last months, but, tonight, since returning from the hospital, his nerves had reached such an intense, rare, bad point that was worst than Tom’s, due to unpredictability.

 _God helped Leonard if he provoked him_.

Alphard was sitting into hot nails and he didn't even know the details: _for which one to worry more, the cousin or the dear friend_.. _?  
_ In either case he had a very, very, bad feeling...

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Suddenly, his mark started burning with such intensity that he stiffened and barely held back a pained cry. Minerva, bless her and curse her, was immediately worried.  
“What is it Alphard, please, let me see?”

Before he had the chance to object Minerva had raised tenderly his sleeve. There was no cry of fear, or indignation, upon seeing the inflamed skin, only a tiny inhalation, and a soft, too soft,  
“Oh Alphard;” which he really feared that it was pity.

A flush of embarrassment covered his face and he lowered the sleeve right away. It wasn't that he was ashamed, or regretting, upon swearing himself on Tom, far from it. He never lost his admiration to the man, even after the foray to the future. Instead his continuing friendship with Harry and their decision to form a common side had made that admiration, and his dedication and loyalty, to grow.

No, his problem was that while Minerva was free and able to determine her future, (if she had already sworn her allegiance to Dumbledore she wouldn't have it that easy to change sides, or even think to go out with Harry) he couldn't offer her the same thing and feared that he was going to lose her from that.

“Look, I must go now.” he told her hastily.

“It doesn't bother me, Alphard.” her voice was still soft but there was a ring of steel underneath.

He blushed again, to the tips of his ears, this time from pleasure.  
“I really must go.” he told her once more.

 _And he really should.  
_ If he judged by the intensity of the call, Tom was so angry and the crisis so extreme that was going to be lucky, he and the others, if he didn’t end cursed with crucio or something even more imaginable. Very deliberately he didn’t think on what the emergency could be about.

“I’m coming with you.” there was no hesitation, or softness, whatsoever.  
The steel blade of her will was out, deadly and shining.

“What, are you crazy?” Alphard didn’t know if he was stunned or totally afraid.

“Alphard,” she started again in that patient tone that meant danger,  
“We both know that this is about Harry, he is my friend too, I'm coming with you.”

There was no disputing of her words. If Tom was too angry he would take the full responsibility, she was enough in his favour to get away, for this at least, and in the very end it was better if she knew, exactly, where she gotten herself into, so she would make an informed decision before marrying him... _and yes he blamed Harry for such Gryffindorish ideas._

“Alright,” he said at least, “we better hurry.”  
They started running.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

A look on Tom’s face nearly buckled Alphard’s knees from sheer terror; his Lord looked like he was carved from stone, all ruthless determination and freezing composure, only the manic glint to his eyes indicated any emotion, or that everything wasn’t lost. He needed that reassurance. Harry was laid on a bed, pale as death and unconscious, his stupid cousin, Leonard, a mess on the floor pleading for someone’s life in an agonising stutter. Alphard had been afraid, but this was worse than his fears. He had no idea what to do.

Minerva’s reaction was much more open and intense; she grew pale as Harry, for a moment, and berated Leonard with such fury that it looked truly scary. It also got her a brief approving look from Tom - _not that she noticed_. The Black heir was truly relieved though, she was indeed ‘one of them’ even without been marked. It had been a gamble to bring her here but it paid and she wasn't going to get punished.

As Tom left with Brax, and an anxious Zev hurried out to bring forth some stronger medical potions from his lab. Minerva wasn't doing so alright, some of her strength seemed to be leaving her and she leaned at his side for a moment.  
“Harry is going to survive this, isn't he?”

Alphard smiled for her.  
“Of course he will; he is strong and Tom will stop at nothing to save him.” he reassured her and himself.  
 _He wanted so much to believe it, he believed it..._

“Any-thing?” Leonard croaked out. Alphard’s smile turned a bit nasty.

“Yes anything.” he had the pleasure to see his cousin squirming a bit, but the cruel moment passed, and he approached Leonard quickly and helped him -with Minerva’s aid- carefully on his feet.  
“Where else are you hurt, except your broken ribs and bruised mouth?” he asked clinically.

“Al-phard, I...” his cousin tried to speak, again, looking imploringly.

Alphard hardened his heart. He may not knew all the facts, but there was something indisputable: Harry wouldn't have punched unprovoked and also, it looked like his friend was the worst off of the two, which meant that there could have been a trap...  
“Save it,” he said harshly, he couldn't afford to care, _yet he did._ His hand tightened on the other’s arm.

“What happened, Leonard?” Minerva asked softly and a bit kinder, but not less demandingly than the first time.  
“You’d given me your word that you had no intentions of harming him?” the disappointment was palpable.

Leonard winced, but before he could answer Hermione cut them abruptly from her place beside Harry.  
“Healing first and then questions...”

Alphard barely managed to not sneer. _Seriously, did she has to be so bossy and patronizing?  
_ Like he and Minnie didn't care at all for Leonard, never mind Harry? The bitter joke was already on his lips:  
 _‘Yes, my Lady.’_

But he couldn't. Hermione did her best to stay in control of herself and the situation, yet looked almost like a snared rabbit -with her hand trembling on Harry’s brow, and he found himself nodding in quiet agreement. Minerva sent him an approving glance.  
“Quieter,” he said in an afterthought, “we’ll wake him.”

Hermione calmed down and came to help them, the three of them put Leonard on a couch, fixed the bruises and the smallest of his hurts, even set some of the bones, Alphard, being a good sport, accio’d the missing teeth. Still, in common silent agreement, they sat close to Harry and kept the interrogation for after Zev’s return.

Alphard used the quiet to think. There was no doubt in his mind for Harry’s affliction; he had seen the symptoms on him before, the damn book had been in his family in generations, plus his father had made him memorise it completely before he ended his third year. So there was no question on the how...The true important question was: _‘_ _W_ _as the Stone going to be enough?’  
_ He believed in Tom, but he was scared too.

Still, there was no point in talking about it openly, Hermione was aware of everything, Leonard would be a liability, even if he cared, and he would rather avoid scaring Minerva with the darkest details...

... _Another question was the cloak:_ Leonard’s offer confused him a lot.  
 _Why would his cousin present the Potter’s most precious family heirloom? As far as he knew Leonard had no idea of the family bond, so what changed?_ And the weird question _... Tom’s lenience... Why would his Lord spare him, Harry’s family or not, if he attacked?  
_ _Something had happened tonight..._

After a few more minutes Zevi arrived and fixed the harder problems, organs and the most delicate bones. _It was time to get his answers...  
...The night was going to be long anyway..._

A few silence charms and light dampers around Harry’s bed later the interrogation was underway.  
“What happened with Harry, can you describe it to us?” Hermione started, looking calm as you please.

“I didn't come here to hurt Harry, or attacked him in any way; my purpose was to ask for his protection.” Leonard stated earnestly. “Neither was his intention, I carelessly insulted him and he socked me a good one.” a small pause for breath. “The explosion came later, he asked me for some information and my answers enraged him, but it was more against himself than anything else, hence the whole mess.” he gestured around the room.

For a few moments everyone was pensive to digest the information.  
“Why did you need his protection?” Zevi asked almost gently.

Alphard nodded discreetly his agreement. After all, whatever may have happened, Harry would still want the Potters safe. Not, that they really could take any decision, or needed to:  
 _Harry was going to be okay, like always, Tom was going to fix him, the rest were just fears_. He forced his eyes away from Harry’s prone form and to his cousin.

His cousin looked nervous for a moment then he straightened his back.  
“My father, has been Grindelwald’s prisoner since early fall, after he got caught spying. So, it’s almost certain that one of his next attacks will be against my family, especially after yesterday.”

Alphard swore up a storm inside his mind, but kept his face carefully blank. He wanted to say many things, but could promise nothing, so better keep his silence for now. Nevertheless, keeping completely indifferent was impossible, so he clasped, again, his cousin’s arm. Leonard looked at him with something like little relief.

_Maybe in time they could start to call each other family again..._

Minerva’s reaction was immediate and far more vocal.  
“Oh Godric!” she softly wailed. “I'm so sorry Leonard.” she instantly covered her mouth with her hands and looked guiltily at Harry,  
in case she had awoken him. Thankfully the charms held strong, she hadn't.

Leonard relaxed with her acceptance.  
“I know you care, Minnie, sorry for not telling you earlier.”

Minerva wasn't that easily placated, and hit Leonard upside the head.  
“Why you didn't? You idiot...”

Leonard ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck.  
“Ouch, I'm really sorry, okay, and I couldn't tell you... Truly, would you had believed me if I had spoken against your mentor?”

Minerva glared daggers.  
“Of course I would.” she stated frustratedly and it was obvious that she wasn't adding something more colourful only due to her good breeding.

Leonard glared as well.  
“How on earth could I have guessed that you’d have ended in this company?”

Minerva rolled her eyes.  
“You couldn't, but you should have known that, at the very least, I would have heard you out over anything.”

Leonard flushed, nodded and looked thankful when Hermione interfered...  
“Can we get back to the point if you don’t mind.” she told them sharply. When both Minerva and Leonard nodded she continued.   
“Leonard, you said something about Professor Dumbledore’s involvement, care to elaborate?”

Leonard looked more than eager to share this.

“Yes very much so, Professor Dumbledore sent my father to spy at Grindelwald, but totally deserted him when he got caught. Yesterday, after I saw how close they were, it became apparent that my family had been betrayed and my only chance was Harry’s protection.” his tone at that was rather proud. “He believed me and I didn't want to hurt him... believe me please” he concluded looking both defiant and contrite at the same time.

Zevi smiled.  
“I believe you, and knowing Harry, he must have offered something more than simple protection.”

Leonard’s eyes got wide and sequentially met every single pair of eyes in acute disbelief.  
“Yes, to try and free my father.” seeing neither surprise nor alarm his voice got progressively high.  
“Are you crazy, all of you, this is Nurmengard?”

Alphard laughed.  
“Not really, we just know Harry, you will get used to.”

Leonard made his impression of a fish again and Zev had to snap him from it.  
“You said something about protection?”

His cousin nodded.  
“Yes, I need a safe place for my mum and my little sister, Annette,” he bit his lips, “I know it will came all of a sudden and you will probably not believe me, but Harry told me that he was going to ask you to put up with us.” he looked down. “I suppose that now it’s impossible.”

Zev shook his head.  
“No, not impossible, if everything is alright by tomorrow it could be easily arranged, lets hush the details out.”  
Leonard beamed.

Alphard let them talk things out while he tried to sort himself out. Leonard was sincere in everything he had told them, else Tom would have already killed him, so it was a safe bet that come tomorrow, if everything went well, (and they damn well better be) his cousin was going to be well on his way to be a part of their circle.

He couldn't help but have some very mixed feelings to the whole matter.

On one part he was ecstatic to have his cousin back, he had missed him, and he was in complete agreement with Minerva’s every word. Leonard should have told him, no matter what happened back then. He, little Annette, aunt Dorea, and uncle Charlus were family he would have helped however he could, even if no one else in the family did. More, uncle Charlus had never said a bad word to him, despite everything, and he would have helped on that alone. His uncle certainly didn’t deserve this end and the thought of aunt Dorea and Annette as Grindelwald's targets was making him sick.

On the other, he had loved Minerva since the first time she had scolded him for a prank yet couldn’t help but laugh at it, and had wanted her almost since he first discovered what it meant to desire. He never made a move then, in part, because of her friendship with Leonard, _(you don’t mess up with family)_ and continued to that vein from respect to their closeness.  _I_ _t was well possible that they could marry one day,_ while Alphard was scared shitless of his father’s reaction.

After his cousin got engaged to the Longbottom heiress the decision had been taken, - _the talk with Harry was just the culmination-_ he was going to fight and get his chance with her, no matter what, even if it meant that he would anger his Lord, never mind his father. Yet, here was Leonard, too close for Alphard’s comfort on his Minerva and talking so intimately; _he was the real threat, not the old geezer._ But this time he wasn’t going to simply step back, he was going to fight, and if his cousin dared to try and take her from him he was going to pay.

Alphard rubbed the weariness from his face and his eyes fell on Harry. He couldn't help a wave of shame for his disregard. Here, his friend was dying and he was contemplating possible problems in his love life, _not even factual ones...  
..._ Never mind that if Harry died no one else here was going to survive either _...he wasn't thinking about it..._

But he couldn't hold back a shudder to the thought that Harry did that to himself intentionally. Unfortunately, at second thought, it didn’t surprise him at all, based on things and Harry’s nature. That was what bothered him the most...That he had some inclination on his friend’s problems, had seen the clouds gathering for a couple months, or more, and yet had done nothing, leaving it to his Lord to deal with the problems. The knowing worrying looks between Hermione and Zevi indicated the same thing.

 _Well_ , that wasn't going to be the case from now on. While he hoped with his whole heart that Tom was going to fix him, like always, he wasn't going to leave Harry’s care only up to him anymore. Harry was his friend too, and friendship wasn't only having fun. He wasn’t going to lose him, just like that, not if he could help it.

 _Salazar, he sounded worse than princess!  
_ There was and a tiny bit of self service, of course, if Alphard was completely honest. He would rather not die at Tom’s hands, but the true, immediate, distress was about Harry.

Minerva seemed to have similar thoughts, as the discussion had lulled; she had dropped completely out of the talk and kept looking sadly at Harry. She wasn’t crying, but Alphard was close enough to notice a reddish tint to her eyes, so he took tenderly her hand and was rewarded with her squeezing back.

Leonard looked insistently on their joined hands and Minerva blushed. Alphard bristled angrily, _if his cousin dared to stuck his nose and destroy him this, he was going to kill him, shared blood or not._

That reaction made him start thinking again. Leonard may have been tactless to boot, but Harry wasn’t the type to easily resort on violence, no matter how livid. It was more likely to shred someone in pieces with a few words, at his worst.  _So what the hell did he said?  
_ “What did you said at Harry?” he asked sharply.

Leonard stopped looking at their joined hands.  
“I don’t understand?”

Alphard barely held back a dark laugh. _Leonard of all people was trying mind games...  
_ “Of course you do, what it was that made Harry hit you? It’s not his style.”

Everyone’s attention was on this now. Leonard didn't say a single word, had involuntary raised his eyes on Granger and lowered them immediately, looking ashamed. _It was enough..._

“You picked on Granger...?” this time the laugh was irrepressible.  
“Please...How daft can you be, you’re pretty lucky to be alive.”

“Leonard, you didn't!?”  
Minerva asked him sharply, looking totally appealed at the idea.

Alphard couldn't help a heavy look, his love was so beautiful, all teacher like!  _Still, Leonard couldn't make a stupider mistake:  
Granger_  of all people _? Really!_

Leonard blushed, an ugly colour, and nodded once.  
“I'm sorry.”

Minerva looked disappointed but didn't say another word, while Hermione, the injured party in question, looked merely sad, but the surprise was -the usually calm- Zevi, who was livid.  
“I want the exact words.” he demanded.

Leonard was Gryffindor above anything else, he raised his head. “I, really, meant no insult at all, you, Minnie and Alphard know better than anyone that there is mixed blood in my line.” he met every pair of eyes with full sincerity. “I just pointed out that it didn't add for Riddle, publicly muggle hater, to want to marry a muggle born, except for Harry’s influence, especially considering their bond.” he tried to put it diplomatically.

Hermione blushed scarlet, from anger or embarrassment Alphard couldn't really tell.  
“It will be better if you left things you didn't know about, alone.” she told him with dignity and yet an underline of tension.

Leonard looked truly remorseful.  
“I'm really sorry Miss Granger; it wasn't my intention to anger, hurt, or insult you in any way, but - _well-_  you don’t look the traditional kind.”

Alphard tensed, this could be taken as an insult even if it wasn't meant as one. But Hermione wasn't the type to be cowed either.  
“It’s none of your business, but I'm not.” Hermione told Leonard with narrowed eyes.

Leonard was especially thick tonight and pressed.

“Then, I don’t get it, why would you mix yourself in something like this?” he complained more to himself than Hermione.  
“Neither Harry’s reactions nor yours make sense with what I have seen at the previous year...Unless...Merlin...” his eyes became huge,  
“You’re a Trio!” he exclaimed and covered his mouth with his hands, totally petrified.

Alphard couldn't help himself, he laughed like a loon.

Three things happened simultaneously to his ill-timed reaction.  
Hermione finally had enough and she punched Leonard right to his face...hard... Minerva started lecturing in a stern voice... and Zevi sent a nasty curse towards him.

Alphard barely managed to dodge...  
“What’s your problem?” he gritted out. he really didn't get it, what caused Zevi to transfer his ire from Leonard directly at him.  
 _Zev was supposed to be the calm one_...

Zevi merely glower at him.  
“Like you don’t know.”

_Oh..._

He shivered a bit under that murderous glare.  
“Hey, don’t look at me like that, it was a joke.”

Zev didn't relent a bit, looking more than ever like that nasty git, Snape...  
“A joke with consequences. Maybe, if you didn't blabber around, things wouldn't have gone so crazy tonight.”

Within the corner of his eye he noticed that Minerva and Leonard had frozen with shock by hearing this, but for once he was so investigated into taking his blood back he didn't even care. Alphard wasn't usually bothered with insults or digs (and Zevi was usually far too refined to use them) but this time it was totally unfair and he was crazy with worry.

“For your information I didn't share that particular joke with anyone but you and Brax. Who knows, if you had fixed that specific problem other problems may not have been problems at all.”

Instantly he regrets it, even if he doesn't drop their staring match. It’s not like Zev truly means his words either, or blames him for Harry’s condition. That’s merely the stress that finally got too much, even for him. But before he could even consider apologising Granger’s soft authoritative voice took his choice.

“Both of you, stop at once, you will wake Harry.”

A fast assessment at Harry’s direction (thankfully still sleeping) and a look at Zev’s stricken face, and the apology was almost easy.  
“I'm sorry, Zev, I didn't mean it.”

Zevi’s apology came just as fast.  
“It’s alright I didn't mean it too...”

 _After all,_ Alphard mused, _poor princess had it anything but easy..._

Harry’s matter aside, to have the woman of your dreams constantly close but forever out of reach hurt a lot. Not that he blamed him for never taking the chance; it had taken almost everything he had to confront Harry about Minnie, and he knew logically that the worst possible outcome could have been the statement that he wanted to marry her, nothing worse.  
...The same scenario with Tom went beyond imagination...

Everything quieted again and they returned standing guard. An hour passed, tortuously slow, and Alphard started comparing the girls to pass the time.

There were many common things as well as differences. Both were tallish for women, Minerva a bit taller, both had dark hair and eyes, thought his love’s was much darker, Minerva’s hair was a dark river, when she wasn't having it in a matron’s (but so sexy) knot, While Hermione’s was a mass of untameable curls. Both had beautiful faces but while Hermione’s face was a classic oval, his Minerva had sharp almost elfish features.

Both were wilful and stubborn... Alphard admitted this with a smile, as Minerva managed to stay awake, by sheer will alone, for all that her head had started leaning to his shoulder in her tiredness... and in a clinical description they sounded almost completely alike.  
The funny thing was that while Minerva looked the most conventional one it was the other way around.

Yet, the best way for someone to spot the differences were those similarities. Both were excellent scholars but while his Minerva was capable of having fun outside of academics, her amazing progress and enthusiasm to Quidditch only a usual example of this, Hermione’s preferred method of relaxation on the other hand was her debates with Tom...

...Alphard remembered countless evenings, since the previous year, in the common room with Hermione and Tom passionately comparing notes in obscure magical theories, that most of their classmates barely understood a tenth of it and that hardly  _(Alphard had a better understanding than most, but still needed to read up as a rule afterwards)_ with Harry slyly and gently edging them on.  
... _A_ _most domestic scene..._

Alphard could and would bet, given the chance, that the main reason Zev and Hermione reacted so violently with Leonard’s statement was the truth it held. For even a tri-way relationship didn't need to be sexual, they had proved that the previous year. Cause, while Tom flirted extendedly with her, never got it to the point to truly exclude Harry, not even now.

And Hermione, while obviously head over heels, never moved past the subtle cues that Harry instinctually and unknowing kept on giving her, not even when Tom pressured for more, ...making it clear as day, that while she was in love with his Lord the person she loved most in the world was Harry...

 _Yes,_ Alphard thought, as he regarded Hermione, perched on Harry’s bedside, fatigued with exhaustion, yet, keeping her eyes open from sheer stubbornness and love, _a tri-way relationship was exactly what was needed._ (Never mind Zevi’s objections, his friend may knew people but Alphard knew girls.)

 _Not only for Harry’s needs,_ (which came first) _but for Hermione as well...  
_ He had a feeling that even if Harry died right now and somehow Tom didn't kill them _(_ _improbable_ _)_ and even somehow remained the same _(_ _sheer impossibility_ _)_ Hermione still wouldn't be happy just with him...

_...But then again..._

Alphard continued that train of thought as Zevi gently persuaded Hermione to step back and trade with him to a very comfortable looking armchair, stroking her hair and making her fell asleep a couple moments later.

_...Granger was above all logical, it wouldn't surprise him if she found a very logical solution..._

Zevi’s eyes met his and then moved to his stubborn Minerva, he didn't have to say a word. Alphard let his wand to fell on his hand, leaned more towards Minnie and concentrated to a somnus. Minerva started snoring softly - _how endearing_. Tom had ordered a two person guard; there was no need for the girls to suffer too, at least not for the next couple hours...

Next thing he knew Leonard was up and sitting on his other side. Alphard, much to his shame, was somewhat alarmed.  
“Do you need something?”

“Are you really going to marry her?” Leonard was blunt as always.

“Yes.” short and to the point, Alphard was quite tired with his cousin undermining his relationship.

“Are you sure? I'm sure that uncle Cepheous won’t like that at all.”

Alphard tensed all over, but then he forced himself to relax, Leonard really cared, he wasn't simply a smart arse.  
“The hell with my father, I'm not twelve anymore!”

Leonard smiled.  
“Harry already told me, but I wanted to hear this from you.”

Alphard smiled too.  
“Of course he would.”

Leonard got serious.  
“He is a hell of a guy and friend, you’re lucky to have him, I hope someday to be able to call him friend too.”

“I know,” Alphard’s eyes sharpened.  
“Aren't you afraid of him, after this? He is a bit loopy at the moment.”

Leonard’s eyes were honest.  
“I trust him, even after this. It took a whole lot to come to this, probably a _sane_ person could have snapped too and,” he smiled again,  
“isn't the Philosopher's Stone a cure all?”

“That is what I heard.” he half confirmed.  
“Gryffindor!” he teased.

Leonard’s smile reached his whole face.  
“And don’t you forger it.”

Suddenly he dreaded the possibility that they would return to the coldness of the previous years.  
 _There was a sure way to avoid that_...

“I’m sorry for not standing up to my father when he insulted aunt Dorea. I feared he was going to beat me up badly if I dared to have a publicly different opinion than him, I planned to ask sorry afterwards...” Alphard was beet red with embarrassment, but it had to be done...

“Well...” Leonard was embarrassed as well he didn't have to remind how badly he had reacted, making it impossible for Alphard to ask forgiveness. “I wasn't exactly approachable, but Dumbledore had already set me to spy on Riddle and you were already a part of his circle, I didn't want to spy on you too.” it wasn't an apology but something close to it.

Alphard’s eyes widened.  
“What?”

Leonard winced.  
“That’s one of the reasons for Harry’s outburst; I can see that you’re ready to follow suit but can’t you wait? Riddle let me alive so far.”

The tone was dry but Alphard could read his cousin’s worry, he softened his face.  
“Alright, but if Tom okay’s it I want to hear the story.”

Leonard nodded quite willingly, but then the worry returned.  
“How on earth you will manage to dodge uncle Cepheous?”

Alphard could read him perfectly. This time the worry was for him not Minnie.  
“I won’t,” he leaned forward. “I will tell you a secret, Leonard, no one knows this, not even Harry, so mum the word."

Leonard nodded eagerly.  
“I won’t say a thing.”

Alphard grinned.  
“Markham plans to return to the Falcons, he agreed to recommend me in his place.”

Leonard’s mouth simply hung open.  
“You! Flying instructor?”

Alphard raised an eyebrow.  
“You don’t have me capable?”

“Of course I have you, berk, but why not professional Quidditch? You are not at Harry’s level, but for a chaser...you’re good.”

Alphard wasn't insulted.  
“No one that wants to live is good as Harry. Anyway, I prefer the school.” he didn't need to elaborate to the why.

Leonard grinned from ear to ear.  
“Boy, you have it bad! Congratulations!”

Alphard grinned right back.  
“Thanks.”

Leonard looked at him thoughtfully.  
“The question is: why it took you so long? If you love her that’s much it had been years in the making...” Alphard didn't say a word but his cousin was caching fast on how to read him again. “It was me isn't it? You held back for the chance that I may want her too.”

“Leonard!” Alphard was mortified to death, it was one thing doing it, quite another owning up to it. Leonard face lighted up like he had managed the best prank in the school.

“You didn't have to worry about me, I love the girl like a sister and some times like a brother...don’t even think about telling her that... but as a woman she doesn't do anything for me, she is too graceless and boy like. I had enough with strong women with mum, I prefer something soft and femmine for my wife.” he smiled self-satisfied. “Meli is a dream came true.”

Alphard was incredulous.  
 _His Minerva wasn’t sensual and graceful and femmine enough? Was Leonard blind?_

 _Minerva, who was so graceful in the air, fighting, or even dancing, who took his breath away with her proper buns that accentuated the long line of her neck, and was making him tremble with want upon seeing her fierce, or even flushed with sweat, after a game or a battle?_ Leonard had no idea, but Alphard wasn't idiotic enough to correct him.

 _He loved Melissa Longbottom, for her softness?_ Alphard barely held back a laugh.  
Sure, she was femmine enough and kind, but he had shared a single Herbology assignment with her and he had come to the conclusion that she was the most stubborn female he ever met; even had a feeling that Harry had taken it from her, not his cousin.  
 _Leonard was for quite the ride._

Still, he kept his mouth shut, Leonard loved the dirt his mother walked on, and was going to be quite happy with something close to that, for all his complains. Consequently he was quite honest with his well wishes.  
“I'm happy for you too cousin,” he hugged him, “I know it’s a bit late for your engagement, but congratulations.”

Upon seeing Leonard’s happy smile Alphard concluded that while it was a bloody nightmarish night it had gotten just a tiny bit tolerable.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

  _ **Tom's pov**_

Tom apparated himself and Abraxas to Godric’s hollow’s graveyard beside an incredibly old grave that belonged to Ignotus Peverell. Even that wasn’t enough to get his attention for more than a cursory glance and the mental note to check it someday. After a few flicks of his wand for a couple masks (always black and white these days) and disillusionment they were on their way.

The Potters’ house looked very homely unscratched, but what really got his attention was the contrast to the other house to the left. The residences were almost of the same size, yet somehow the alchemist’s dwelling, while far from neglected, was also way more understated, radiating uninteresting. Tom’s eyes sharpened at that, it seemed that subtle was the key word for safety as far as the Flamels were concerned.

It was indeed. Tom set to work being extremely careful and precise.

It could be relatively easy – for him – to force his way inside, but to manage passing undisclosed was a completely different matter. Dumbledore’s ideas of defence were childish games in comparison. There were charms upon charms taping one into another, nothing overtly harmful, but even a single one of them undetected it could set out an alarm that wouldn’t only wake up the house, and probably the whole village, but would also tip Dumbledore and who knows who else...

Tom couldn’t afford distractions to his work and was pleased he brought Abraxas to guard him. As he got into the more inner defences their properties started getting more severe and the magic darker, due to that, he was able to work a bit faster and after around fifty minutes he managed to finally unlock the door.

“Wait for me here,” he instructed Abraxas, “if you hear any sounds from the house, no matter how faint, create a distraction, the loudest you can, but do not enter the house unless I specifically call you.”  
He barely waited for the affirmation before he got inside.

Flamel’s house looked very different on the inside than outside. While it was a far cry of the opulence of Malfoy Manor, for example, it was anything but neglected. Wide areas, assisted with careful use of wizarding space, and decorated tastefully with wizarding and muggle objects, precious artwork from around the world. The whole effect like a modest museum.

Tom had intended to search the house first looking for the stronger magical sources he could find and at the case they were blocked logically and methodically. Unfortunately that was impossible. Every crane and nick of the house was crowded with hidden shelves and crypts which, he discovered, were full of extremely rare and powerful artefacts, not merely objects... and every single shelve and crypt was protected with the same delicate diligence. Tom had got quite acquainted with the pattern, but it was still taking time and there were always surprises, it wasn’t worth the risk to be careless.

Each hidden drawer contained something tantalising that Tom wanted to take out and study, but one, he had lost already too much time and two, hadn’t come there for them – so no frivolities – and it was better to leave things as much intact as possible. In the end he simply took every single container that he could find, which turned out quite a good number.  
The search continued to the second floor.

The defences were again tighter and the artefacts more dangerous, but the Stone wasn’t anywhere near the vicinity of the laboratory, or the office, and Tom wasn’t going anywhere until he fount it. Unfortunately, there was a problem; Tom wasn't certain if he made a mistake and tipped a silent alarm, or if the wizard was able to sense that someone was on his property, but Flamel woke up and found his treasures levitating at his study.

Naturally the alchemist’s first reaction was a “Finite incantatem.” to see who was against him, but to no effect, as Tom’s parselmagic protected him from such nuisances.Tom sent an array of incapacitating curses to end things in a hurry but Flamel surprised him by managing to dodge.

Flamel then processed to surprise him even more so, as his attack wasn’t an attack at all but a counter curse, that while didn’t lift his disillusionment it surrounded him with a faint silver aura, which was almost the same thing, as he was now visible. They duelled for some minutes, for while Flamel wasn’t even nearly close to Grindelwald level, he was a very powerful grey wizard (again surprising,) with six centuries of experience. The odds changed once more when the wife got into the game.

Perenell Flamel was a fairly good duellist as well and was very used to work in tandem with her husband (Tom’s mind flashed to Harry and it steeled his resolve even more) and it made things even more difficult. It could be simpler of course for Tom to permanently get them out of the way, but he found himself reluctant. 

Not only for the epic Harry’s bitching, that was definitely going to happen if he killed them, but because Tom found himself respecting their brilliance. It would be a true loss to simply dispatch them, not when there was even the smallest chance that he could use those talents for his benefit. Also he was very aware that if he killed the one he should definitely kill and the other. Those two had lived together for six centuries, if one of them survived the other he or she was going to deal with gods and demons to get revenge. So Tom was very, very, careful with his curses, much to his disadvantage, but when the passing of time was beating right to his temples and his patience was as good as over he managed to finally stun Flamel for some moments and it was enough to distract the wife, so he took care of her as well.

A few moments more, to make sure that they were really out and would stay that way, for the next hours at least, and Tom continued with his search, calmly as you please, but still with dubious results. Finally, at four in the morning, in the couple’s bedroom, after he had searched everything else, he found the Stone.

It was unmistakable.

Not only from her reddish colour and specific shape, which he remembered from Harry’s memories, but his whole being was affected from the power and vitality he sensed radiating from that simple object. He had succeeded in his mission; he took the rest of the found containers, and after securing his mask to a post, left the house.

Abraxas was waiting outside, for some reason looking really unnerved – _he really needed to train his followers more –_ but an exchange of looks was enough to fix that. For a moment it looked disturbingly like Malfoy had forgotten his place and intended to hug him thankfully he refrained.  
 _Tom really needed to talk with Harry about the ideas he was giving..._

“Let’s return to the school.”

“Yes my Lord.” Abraxas was positively beaming. Tom wasn't so positive. He was satisfied with his success of course, but he wasn't going to relax until he forced the Elixir down Harry’s throat and had proof that it worked.

They returned to the school and their first hurried stop was the R room. Harry was still sleeping peacefully and the others were continuing to guard him, even a fatigued Leonard.  
“How was he?” Tom asked.

“Still sleeping, my Lord,” Zevi answered. “He hadn't stirred at all, but we kept sending him periodically sleeping charms so he will probably stay asleep until morning.”

“Very well.” Tom considered for a moment his orders. “Leonard, you will stay here until you wake Harry at 6:30. Harry wasn’t aware of the true extent of your injuries; you won’t mention to him that you met me only that you asked for Alphard and Minerva’s help, which would stay as well. Abraxas, you will stay until its time for Harry to wake but he won’t find you here, Zevi and Hermione with me.”

That was going to be enough for Harry to keep guessing until he was ready to find him, probably an overt gesture but it would do and in all probability Tom was going to have the Elixir ready before six.

Everyone nodded in agreement to his orders but Leonard was agitated and needed something more.  
“You didn’t kill them, did you?”

Tom didn’t care for the tone but he let it pass.  
“No, I didn’t.”

Leonard’s relief was palpable.  
“Thank you my L...”

Tom merely smirked.  
 _He was keeping this memory to taunt Harry;_ the near reverent tone of his grandfather was going to needle him for a long time ...

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

 Four hours after, he wasn't anywhere near that satisfied. They had tested – in every which way – every single one of the contained potions he took from the Flamel house and not one of them was the Elixir, not even in an early stage. Worst, he hadn't any results even with the actual Stone.

Tom was regretting bitterly that he didn't question the Flamels about the Elixir, or the workings of the Stone. The reason he held back was the awareness that a questioning would had ended in torture and probable death, as stressed as he was, and he hadn't held back in the first place to succumb after. At that moment though he was cursing Harry and his soft ideas.

A tempus later he swore, it was a little after breakfast; he needed to make a token attendance at class and to check on Harry, he could continue to work on the Stone later.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Twelve hours later, Tom had never been closer to murder – _everyone–_ in his life. The Stone continued to not respond in anything he tried and he had tried _everything_. He was also keeping the link close and avoiding Harry like the plague.

Not only to avoid telling him that he failed, _(he hadn't, not by a long shot)_  but because it would piss him off and make him question.  
A questioning, or angry, Harry was too busy trying to figure out Tom and was absenting from doing something rash, or stupid. It wouldn't hold for long, but for now it worked.

Tom wasn't depending only on that, of course, he had his friend under such a heavy guard that Harry wouldn't possibly be able to be alone even in the toilette. It was going to blow up in his face soon enough, but if Harry held back until morning it would be enough.   
He hoped that until then it would have been enough to figure out the Stone.   
(If not Tom was going to make another visit at the Flamels, the charm to persuade them to stay at their place contained in the mask, among other things, was probably strong enough.)

For now he had another problem.

That idiot, Dippet –who sometimes surpassed Dumbledore– had the brilliant idea for an informal dance to celebrate their recent victory against Grindelwald at Hogsmeade. It would have looked beyond strange if he didn’t participated, so he was forced to stay in the Great Hall, spinning Hermione in a tango, instead of researching, but they weren’t going to stay here for long, another dance at most, and they would return on their work, gossip meant nothing right now.

All the while Harry nursed firewhisky after firewhisky – Tom couldn't help sent him convert troubled glances between spins. This wasn't good; Harry wouldn't make a public scene, no matter his condition, but even a small fight later, with anyone, wouldn't help matters.  _Maybe he should order Zevi to dose him with a sedative, just in case..._

In the next turn, his worry went sky high; Harry wasn't at the table anymore, and after a fast examination, neither anywhere else in the hall.  
He examined his followers then, Alphard was dancing with Minerva near them, blissfully unaware of anything, Abraxas and Zevi looked alarmed but not too alarmed, he looked at the Gryffindors ... Leonard wasn't with Harry; he was talking with his girlfriend. At something that could be called a hunch he checked the Hufflepuff table. Diggory wasn't there...

Tom’s mind went racing...

It was improbable that the one had to do with the other; they were only acquaintances at best, but something close to instinct that Tom didn't even know he had, was screaming that they were together. He tried to think logically, Diggory was the Undersecretary’s son; there were many things that Harry could gain by talking with him...But also...Harry was attracted to him...

Meanwhile, Hermione was squirming because he stopped dancing.  
“Tom what’s wrong?” she asked worried, then she followed his gaze...  
“Where’s Harry?” her voice started getting truly panicked.

Tom ignored her...

His mind was busy trying to come with reasons to drop the theory, he couldn’t. Harry was attracted to the badger – and strongly so – his reactions were proof of that. The only things that held Harry back from doing something with that attraction were his conviction that he wasn’t gay and his feelings for Tom...  
...That belief didn’t seem that strong these days and as for his feelings, he was angry enough with Tom (and rightfully so) that it was probably easy to overlook them and seek comfort from the gentler Hufflepuff...

 _Maybe he should let him do it_ , the ruthlessly logical part of Tom’s mind pointed out.   
 _Diggory was at best a fling, something that wouldn’t create problems to them, even if Harry dated him for a while. At worst case, if it was a point of Harry’s emotional dependence, it was most likely to end in his advantage. His friend could finally get it over without the smallest risk to their own relationship._ _The only problem with this was that he should tolerate Diggory’s hands on his Harry for at least once..._

The blood roared ho hard in his veins that he was incapable to hear the music or anything else.  
... _The hell he would_...

Tom left Granger where she stood, without a single word, and followed Harry...

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS Edited at 10/09/2014  
> Please review to inspire me for more...


	7. The Explosion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Passion...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone,  
> I know that the chapter is slightly smaller to what I'm used you but I'm leaving for vacation in a couple days and didn't want to leave you without for August, other than that I kept my promise as best I could, but the next one will be even better…  
> Unbetaed for now sorry…  
> Love to all, (especially the latest guest reviewer)  
> Krysania

 

**Chapter Seven:The Explosion**

_ **Harry’s pov** _

Harry brought the firewhisky glass on his lips, pretending to drink, but in reality just banishing the contents little by little. It was necessarily, for his plans tonight, that his friends would regard him as drunk, so that he could get away hassle free. Not that it was that difficult, his friends were unused in sleep deprivation and were almost sitting ducks, compared to their usual selves, thanks to that.

He couldn't help sending them a fond glance.

Brax looked half asleep to the table; Zevi had heavy dark rings under his eyes, Alphard and Minerva were dancing now, but they hadn’t left him alone almost at all the whole day, Hermione had done the same, as much as she could, but her eyes dampened nearly every time she looked at him, and even Leonard was sending him concerned glances from his table.

Harry hated that he was going to realise all their fears...  
Still, there wasn't a single doubt in his mind that, for all their undoubted caring, Tom’s heavy hand was hiding behind this entire planning.  
 _Tom._

The Slytherin Heir hadn't spoken a voluntary word to him the whole day; even sitting beside him at class. Harry had been half expecting it, since he awoke, but he was also hoping that they had moved past Tom retreating every time he touched an emotional milestone.  
Harry laughed mirthlessly, not caring, even a little bit, at how he looked to the others. _-The whole day yesterday was a study in emotional retreat..._

His feelings were such a confusing swirling minefield that he was sure he had gone completely round the bend. On one moment he soared so high with happiness that he thought that he was going to touch the sun.  _Tom loved him, truly did, with everything he had!_ Harry didn't doubt it, not anymore. Not when he was ready to risk getting forever trapped into his mind. Those moments out of time were beyond precious to him, eternally seared in his heart and soul, cherished... _to his last breath_...

But there was always the next moment that he remembered how casually and logically Tom rejected him on the same day and he crashed down.  
The hurt was still cutting deep, as deeply as the happiness, if not deeper. Even the fact that Tom did it - _before-_ rushing to save him didn't ease the pain, only deepened it. Truthfully, the knowledge that his friend had consciously rejected him, while he felt all those things, was making his stomach queasy and his blood to boil ... _especially considering his latest rejection..._

A bitter smile touched Harry’s lips as he watched Tom dance with Hermione under the sounds of ‘Una Historia De Un Amour’, they looked good together and he hoped that he was right and his friend felt something for Hermione cause, soon enough, she was going to be the only one left to him...

Harry was strangely glad for the distance.  
If Tom dared to speak to him, right now, he wasn't completely sure he wouldn't kill him, probably the opposite.

But even that was hardly the main problem anymore.  
Whatever he may feels, be delirious with happiness, spiting with rage, or dejected beyond measure, any feelings whatsoever were now irrelevant.  
 ** _The die had already been cast_...**

... _He was thankful on Tom for teaching him to move past his emotions_...

The decision had been taken long ago; Harry didn't need yesterday to warn him. The one mistake he made with this was allowing himself to forget, in the first place, at his attempt to function. If he hadn't done that the whole mess wouldn't have happened. The only problem he hadn't foreseen with the first plan and finding himself again into the past was that Tom would have taken his horcrux into his self and even less that he would have bestowed him with his own. He didn't have the right to die anymore...

That didn't mean he was ready to simply accept that he was losing control and was now prone to hurt others, Tom had made a disservice to the both of them when he snapped him from caging himself into his own mind, but that didn't mean that it was the only viable of Harry’s options.The idea had stuck him from the start but the available catalyst had been a bit too obvious. He couldn't use Sava from the chamber to petrify him, Tom was either going to find him in five minutes flat, and even if he didn't, a sharp order from his master and the giant snake would have confessed to everything...Harry needed another basilisk...

It had taken him until the start of sixth year for Harry to pry the information from Slughorn, (it would have been inadvisable to have asked anything of the sort from Zevi and his family) but he had the location for a fairly young basilisk in Ireland - _a small look though glass and all his problems will be over..._

He wouldn't be able to hurt anyone ever again, he would be technically alive and so Tom would be incapable of hurting his friends, instead he will still be obliged to protect them, and mostly, this wouldn't damage his friend and neither of the Horcruxes.   
Win **/** win scenario...   
 _But he prayed that was right in his estimation that, while Tom fought him viciously for his decision, if he wasn’t given a choice to the matter and only learned it afterwards, his friend would finally accept it and move on with his life_...

Other than that, the only thing he had still a problem with was that he wouldn't be able to do anything for Charlus Potter, not only because he was blood, but because he really felt that he owed it to Leonard. His grandfather hadn’t only stayed all night long in the R room, but was and bloody courteous in the morning, not pitying him or anything, but simply considering the episode a bad moment. That had gutted Harry...

... _And then the bloody git had gone and done it_...  
He had asked him to visit in the vacation, with Tom, or any of his friends...  
That open attitude, after everything, had shamed Harry; he really didn't feel able to look his grandfather to his eyes...

Abruptly, he felt a pair of eyes insisting on him, he raised his face expecting Tom, but his friend was still oblivious dancing with Hermione and he came face to face with an expectant Samuel Diggory.

His cheeks were flushed from drinks, but he looked steady enough, so it was only to the point of giving him courage to approach him. The Hufflepuff smiled at him sweetly, his look lingering a bit, then nodded towards the exit and simply left. Harry had seen enough propositions, (thought he never accepted a single one) to recognise it...

It left Harry with very deep thoughts...

It was a temptation to follow...  
Not that he planned to take him up to his offer, No, ... _dead man dating..._ It sounded more than a little awkward...  
But it was crossing his mind that Sam could really help him with his problem with Leonard. He was the Undersecretary’s son, if someone could get him a portkey for Nurmengard it would be him. If he didn’t want to help, Harry would cash the life-debt, not the best thing to do, but to save a life, or lives; he was more than ready to accept it.

He considered the logistics some more. If he truly did that he was going to invade Nurmengard alone, to do as much damage he could to the defences and free as many prisoners as possible. If Grindelwald was there, to face him as well and do again as much damage as possible before he succumbed.

It sounded beyond suicidal, but Harry was confident that would free at least some of the prisoners, but what really scared him wasn’t death, he could live with that just fine, what terrified him was the prospect of being an undead spirit. Give him enough years and he could turn crazier than Voldemort, but he trusted that Tom wasn’t going to allow him to stay dead.

He didn’t even dare to consider on what Tom was going to use for his body, as it was improbable that he could find the original. But it was only going to end in his favour; it would be impossible for him to stay in Hogwarts, so it could be relatively easy to get away and return to his original plans.

That settled then, a small smile graced his lips, _he was going to do it_...  
He rose to follow and it was almost impossible to not laugh, his friends had certainly a specific impression, but he wasn't going to set them right, none of them would dare to report something like that on Tom, never mind the rest of their house...

A small glance at them, as a final goodbye, and one more on Tom and Hermione, he was ready...  
Harry fallowed Sam out of the hall...

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

The dark haired badger was waiting for him outside, but not with high expectations - _the stunned look on his face was proof enough._ But then he smiled a gorgeous guileless smile that took Harry’s breath away and made him wish, just for a moment, that he really was here to take Sam up to his offer.

“You came!” Diggory was completely breathless. The emotion was such in his voice that Harry couldn't help but blush.

 _A_ _pparently_ _this thing went further than a simple wish to bed him_ and he couldn't help but wonder:- _how it could have been to have someone wanting him without complications..._

He was so disconnected by the thought that instead of quipping like usual and diffusing things he asked simply:  
“Can we leave out of here?”

Sam’s smile gained a little leer.  
“I was hoping for you to ask.”

Harry noticed the charged expression, but he tried to ignore it and had a brief struggle with himself on where to take Sam, he hated to set foot on the R room again, after yesterday, but then again that hate was going to keep his mind on business better than an empty classroom or – _Salazar help him–_ the Astronomy Tower.

“Come with me.”

They got discreetly on the third floor but as much as Harry passed in front the portrait the room sensed his desire to be anywhere but here and the door didn’t materialized. That spiked the, near constant, resentment and anger that Harry felt at himself since he admitted, this morning, how far he had fallen.  
 _...He couldn’t even stop himself from messing up his own plans..._

He forced the irritation down; he wasn’t going to lose control again and hurt Sam, - _not if he could help it..._  
“Damn!” he muttered inside his teeth.

Sam put a tentative hand on his shoulder.  
“Its alright, you can relax, no one will bother us here, they are busy with the dance.” he said softly.

His breath was getting awful close to his face... Harry barely had the time to jump back as he figured things.  
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked to gain time, while he berated internally himself for not staying on his guard.  
 _Really,_ _he should be paying more attention..._ _No one could be a threat like Tom, but nearly no one was a doormat either_...

Sam didn’t take it kindly at all...

“What’s wrong with me?” he glared heatedly. “You are the one acting illogically. You accepted my invitation... took us to the most private part of the castle...and yet now you act all shy... and virginal?” he accused Harry but then his eyes widened.  
“Ahh, I should have known, you haven’t got out with a boy before!”

Harry felt his cheeks heat from embarrassment; _he really would have preferred to avoid that_...  
“To be completely honest,” he put it hastily to end this awkward moment.  
“I had an ulterior motive when I accepted your invitation.”

Diggory’s face that had relaxed with his discovery took a very pensive expression.  
“It figures, I have been after you for months and months and when you finally notice me it’s because you want something. At least you didn’t seduce me and then asked...” he added with very bitter humour.

Harry ducked his head at the partially correct accusations. He refused to acknowledge anything but the final and very pointed comment sent his way, anything else would have created a messiest situation.  
“I would never go that far,” he said, finally looking at Sam’s eyes, “and I’m sorry for creating this mess, but things are really urgent.”

Sam examined him back and then his face softened.  
“I believe you,” he smiled, still a little bitter, but mostly alright. “Come on, ask what you need, I’m more than used to it, since my father’s promotion. No promises, but I will see what I can do.”

Harry really didn’t expect such kindness and felt like a weigh left his shoulders. _It was almost over...  
_ “I need a portkey to Nurmengard.” he said simply.

It wasn’t that simple for Sam. The shock was such he spluttered, almost falling over, and looked at Harry wild eyed.  
“Nurmengard, are you crazy? he will kill you.” he asked overwhelmed with horror.

Harry was touched; he didn't expect such a reaction after his rejection.  
“I don’t have a choice, Sam, the Dark Lord, has a member of my family.”

There was again a flash of kindness and shock, but Diggory regrouped almost immediately.  
“I understand... I should be expecting something like that...I just thought that you were an orphan, never mind that...” a deep breath,  
“Knowing you, a bit, you plan to fight not surrender.” it wasn’t a question.

Harry answered none the less.  
“Surrender is not an option.”

But then Sam stunned him completely with a relieved:  
“Good!”

“What, aren’t you going to ask me if I’m suicidal?”  
The question left Harry’s lips without his control.

Sam smiled.  
“No, I have seen enough of your stunts to already know the answer.

Harry laughed; he didn’t expect such a paid answer by a Hufflepuff. But then he forced himself to the task.  
“Well, can you find me a portkey?”

Sam got serious too.  
“Probably, but Harry, if you wait a bit the task may not need your involvement, or, at least, end a bit less suicidal.” he told him earnestly.

“How so?” he asked curiously.

A brief moment of hesitation that turned to firm resolve... .  
“I’m not supposed to know this, never mind telling you, but there is already a set plan in the Ministry to invade Nurmengard soon.”

Harry was surprised, he never heard for such an operation, somehow history was already changed and not only regarding Tom.  
“How soon?” it was probably irrelevant but he couldn’t help the question.

Sam was prompt to answer.  
“A month, maybe a bit more.”

Harry told himself to not be disappointed.  
“I see...”

Diggory wasn't discouraged by his declining interest.  
“Look, I know that you’re in a hurry and probably want to take care of things yourself, but I’m sure my father will be so happy if you get involved that will try to hasten things on your behalf. You’re of age, so there won’t be a fell out, and was very impressed with you and Riddle...”

“Don’t involve Tom in this.” the order got out instinctually and without thought.  
The fierceness startled Sam, but instead of making him step back it seemed like it firmed his resolve.

“Alright, I won’t.” he put both hands on Harry’s shoulders and just looked at him, not holding back his worry. “But please consider it... alone you will surely die, with the Aurors you will have a chance.”

Harry felt like a storm had been unleashed inside him.

Not for the offer, he didn't have the time to wait for the Ministry without getting Tom on his tail, although, objectionably, it was indeed the highest chance of survival he seemed to have... _if he was still aiming for that of course...  
_ No, what affected him the most was Diggory himself. He didn't expected him to care that much, or to be able to push back, and those facts, together with his closeness and smell, were giving him crazy ideas.

He realised, somewhere in the back of his mind, that in a different – _softer–_ life he would have fallen for Sam.  
 _(_ _Or someone like him_ , but he wasn't analysing that)  
So why not giving in, once? He wanted to forget everything for a while and just live, (now that he still had the chance) to feel that someone desired him and cared.

There was only one thing he truly missed from his relationship with Amelia, the times they had just sat together and held each other for hours.  
He wanted that once again...that and more...  
He knew he could have it with Sam, the passion in his eyes wasn't only for his survival, but was also relatively certain that the badger wasn’t in love with him. He didn't know him well enough for that and, more so, if he was the reaction would have been far more severe, not that begrudging acceptance. Sam was going to be sad but not devastated from his demise.

Those thoughts crossed his mind in a single moment, decision already taken; he repeated the other’s gesture and put his own hands on Sam’s shoulders.  
“Harry what are you doing?” Sam sounded thrown on a loop.

He smiled.  
“Shh.”

He stood on his toes- _really, what was with him and taller guys? (No... he wasn't thinking about that...)_  but just before his lips could find Sam’s he sensed an enormous, hair raising, wave of magic that was immediate expressed like a tremor seizing the whole passageway.

* * *

~*~

* * *

Harry scarcely stayed on his feet; mostly thanks to his reflexes and Sam. He turned around to face the exploding, threatening, magic and wasn't really surprised to find Tom at the other end of the corridor. Still, he couldn't help but being momentarily frozen with the other’s appearance. His friend looked terrible, magic and hair haywire, pale as death with rage, and eyes blazing red.

“Sam, get out of here.” he ordered.  
Sam hesitated for a moment, looking loyally at him and biting his lip, but a second look at the teenager Dark Lord made him bolt away.

Not that Harry had that much attention to spare, everything he had was focused on Tom. Their eyes locked for a single second and then he had to duck a wandless curse. (a barely softer variation of the Cruciatus) His own, much strained, fury finally snapped to blasting proportions, dyeing everything a hazy red. The only thing of issue to him now was to pay Tom back, if he lived or died was irrelevant...

He didn't gave him the time for a second curse, or even bothered with magic, with two strides Harry was in front of Tom, punching with everything he had. The sound of the cracked nose and the smell of blood were deeply satisfying... _J_ _ust not enough_... The next moment Tom retaliated by kicking him on his knees hard and lunging for his throat. They landed on the floor and there wasn’t time for thought anymore.

Harry’s whole world had shrunken down on the exchange of punches, kickings and scratches, it didn't mattered how many hits he was landing on Tom, nor on how sensitive place it was obtained; complete upper hand was simply out of reach, for anyone. Despite his immeasurable fury and the fact that he was usually the better muggle fighter his friend was just as mad and was matching him strike for strike.

After a while it stopped mattering that there wasn't an impending wining to the fight, for anyone, if they were fighting on their feet or rolling on the floor, trying to crack each other’s heads. The bruises and abrasions stopped bothering him, he was consumed with his boiling blood and the fierce satisfaction he gained with every unwilling groan of pain he forced out of the other, each fresh bump and every drop of the small rivulets of blood that run on Tom’s face.

Somehow it was a kind of release and solace from his anger and the over-consummating feeling of betrayal...  
Time hadn't meaning anymore, neither pain, it was simply unconnected as anything but a testimony to reality... But as more minutes, or a small eternity, passed things started to change...

The bruises and blood on his friend gradually stopped pleasing him and started bothering him. His anger and hurt hadn't abated -not even close- but his berserker like rage started to fade. Even his conscience started to needle him...The unguarded moment lasted less than a second, but it was enough for Tom, Harry found himself cornered to a wall.  
His friend’s eyes were still red, there was no common sense present, nor reconciliation in the horizon. Still, he had enough of the fight but no intention whatsoever to surrender, or plead for mercy. So he limited himself on glaring and waited for the probable death blow.

But, instead of killing him, Tom covered his mouth with his own.

Firm, hungry, lips rubbed against his own, making him ache with pleasure. The kiss was violent, totally out of control and beyond possessive, taking everything… Amelia’s too soft and sweet kisses didn't hold even a candle in comparison.  
Harry found himself trembling from passion and his desperate emotions.

In the end he just held on Tom, to stay on his feet, kissing just as fiercely with everything he had...

Harry didn't know if what followed were a thousand kisses or a single endless one, he got lost in the heat, the burning lava of the moment, their pulsing link, Tom’s lips, his smell, warmth, strength, and the wild beating of their hearts...Something that went beyond pleasure...  
His friend was clutching him like only dead he was ever going to let him go. Harry’s, starved for reassurance, psyche responded to this _\- he would rather be dead too, than ever letting go of Tom..._

But that spark of thought reminded Harry of his condition.  
 _He couldn't do that to Tom._

 _If that action would have been a calculated cruelty on Diggory, it went so far beyond that with Tom...Not as opposed to his cold, assertive, aloof, personality but because of that._ This was no time for self delusions or modesty; he was everything the other had. _  
If he gave him all he was and then deserted him, especially to something like death, he would destroy everything his friend was, only the madness will remain..._

Harry stopped his own assault and made an aggressive move to get away; Tom didn't let him to disentangle and tightened his hold even more, _-almost to the point of actual pain_. Regardless what it did to him, Harry continued struggling like crazy, but then a long fingered hand sunk to his hair and grasped them, drawing back his head and compelling their eyes to meet **–** _blazing inferno to blazing inferno_ **–** then Tom took his lips once again...

Harry’s willpower to resist was fading, _fast,_ he needed desperately something to reduce this... _this mutual enthralment..._ and end their moment... At the next retreat of Tom’s tongue he sank his teeth on his friend’s lower lip, biting harshly till copper blood filled his mouth...

...Unfortunately that seemed to arouse Tom even more, he returned the favour, feverishly biting the half Gryffindor’s lips just as hard...  
Strangely, the pain made his body respond even hungrier than before and he couldn't help an involuntary moan, the taste of their shared blood oddly enchanting the experience and making his head spin like if he was drunk...

...Not that Tom left anything in luck, at his next attempt at resistance he reduced the last of the already minuscule distance between them, leaving no doubt whatsoever to his own desire and inserted his thigh between Harry’s own, rubbing firmly. Harry’s head fell back in mindless pleasure. The Slytherin used this, attacking his neck with biting kiss after biting kiss and destroying him completely.  
 _(How the hell should he know that his neck was such a sensitive place..?)_

But even at the brink of ecstasy a fiery spark of his will got to the surface...  
“No.” Harry said with the clearest voice he could manage.  
(Nowhere near his normal voice, as it was wrenched from his moans and he was panting harshly.)

Tom raised his head from his neck and regarded him calmly, arching an eyebrow.  
“No?” he asked seductively. Or as calmly someone could look with a face flushed with desire, violet-red smouldering eyes and beyond swollen lips. There was almost nothing in common with his friend’s usual countenance...

Harry’s heart hammered in his chest, everything in him was begging to give in, but he couldn't, it was the love he felt what gave him the strength to try and hold back. He couldn't help looking as affected as Tom, his eyes just as smouldering, but he made heart and infused them with all the steel in his soul.

“The only way for you to have me is if you use the promise I made for your help in teaching defence, anything else will be against my will.” he cringed inwardly even as he uttered those words. They held no truth, a mere single touch and he would shatter.

But Tom made no move to continue this and even less to invoke their deal. He was frozen solid in plain horror; his arms fell from around Harry, as if burnt from solid ice.  
“Very well,” he said icily, “You may leave.” he took a step back to make way.

Harry stared at his friend shocked and numb to his core; it wasn't the words, or the action. Tom’s eyes seemed to get duller and colder by the second, not merely an angry reaction, but all his feelings dying out, for good...

He had thought that he wouldn't live long enough to see something so unbearable, but here he was -  _the direct cause._ Apparently his strike was as brutal and deadly as the one Tom managed at him yesterday...  
He couldn't stand it...

Harry didn't think about it, his arms came around Tom’s neck; his hands weaved tightly to his hair, coaxing that beloved mouth to his own...  
 _he only prayed that it wasn't already too late..._

His friend stayed cold and unresponsive for a moment and Harry’s heart broke, believing it was over, but then Tom’s arms came around him, clutching him to his chest, tightly as never before. If there was the slightest holding back before there was none now, if they could drink each other’s souls they would...

Tom turned them around, vanishing their clothes, and lay them down. If Harry had the mind to wonder about this, the feeling of a mattress underneath them removed any questions, they had somehow found themselves in the R room. But frankly he didn’t care at all where they were, he had all that warm, strong but soft and creamy, Tom skin to discover...

He lost himself in this...

Their hands explored feverishly, memorising, learning each other bodies as well as they had already learned their minds and souls, turning round and round, tangled on their makeshift bed, both of them trying to assert dominion in an attempt to get the time to appease their thirst for the other. But their hunger went too deep to be sated with mere crumbs and the game continued...

...Their blood burned more with every moment that passed and things had to move beyond power games, no matter how very satisfying to both of their natures they were. At their next shift their erections came firmly against one another, making them gasp at the unbearable pleasure.  
Harry was so lost in this that he really didn’t care at all that he found himself beneath Tom and they instinctually found a rhythm as old as time and magic itself.

Even in this, they barely endured a few seconds a time, for their lips to part, just to draw breath, and they found each other again... but as their cresting came nearer and nearer that became impossible, they found each other’s eyes instead, holding on... But then a curious thing happened... the barriers between them, already flimsy, shattered completely. Harry was Tom, feeling all he felt, and Tom became him. ... _One at last_... They lost themselves in unbearable pleasure and a thousand colours...

Harry had a strange thought, he believed it was his:  _That he didn't mind dying after this, not as sacrifice, but cause he couldn't conceive being happier..._

Tom collapsed in his arms, looking more vulnerable and human than ever, Harry held him even tighter... _He didn't want to leave Tom, never ever wanted to do that, at all..._ he stopped thinking altogether and simply held him for all he was worth... After a little while they started the game again from the beginning...

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

_ **Sam’s pov** _

Samuel Diggory was running as fast as he could ...

Riddle has looked truly insane as he attacked Harry. _Red eyes!?_ Icy shivers run down his spine with the remembrance.  _Merlin!  
_ The way he looked at him, _like he planned him the most gruesome of deaths_. Sam wasn't ashamed to admit he had almost passed out from fear... and Harry wasn't much better, the way he attacked Tom, with such abandon... it was just as compelling to watch, for a completely different reason...

Sam shook his head to drive away those musings. _He just didn't understand._

Abraxas Malfoy - _that sly fox-_ had told him that Harry and Riddle weren't dating; otherwise, he wouldn't have dared to openly approach him. Harry, in addition, hadn't lied to him, that much he could tell; he had dated his share of boys and could spot an innocent. Even that move of his, mere seconds before Riddle’s attack, wasn't staged, no matter how tricky Slytherins were; the surprise to his eyes had been too real...

But the tension between them... _Helga and all the other Founders!_ That tension...  
Even if they hadn't been lovers so far, there was an excellent chance that this was to be rectified tonight...

_...And herein lays his problem..._

If they were killing each other... _and he would have preferred to be miles away from Riddle tonight_... then his duty was clear, to inform the teachers to break them up. _No matter his fear he wasn't going to allow for Harry to be killed, or became a murderer...in battle was one thing..._

_But...what if they weren't fighting and were occupied otherwise..?_

Then to call the teachers would have been beyond bad... rumours and teasing were one thing, even silent common knowledge, but to get caught in a compromising position quite another. Even if they didn't get expelled, due to excellent marks and being of age, a decent job later, never mind an actual career, was out of the question... _Riddle was going to kill him for real and he was going to be right..._

_He was so going to kill Abraxas Malfoy..._

The only thing he could think for his dilemma was to ask for advice, preferable to one of Harry’s friends, but he was too embarrassed to talk about it, as it could be nothing too. Fortunately, his friend Roger was also Harry’s friend, together with his smart girlfriend Imogen, and they did know him pretty well... they would know what to do...

He had just to be careful as he got in and explained, so not alert the teachers...there was probably no need for scandal...

But, as he finally reached the final turn before the doors and stopped to compose himself -  _it wouldn't do to go into Great Hall frazzled like that after all_ \- he realised that was perhaps a bit too late for that...

There were sounds of hushed, rapid, talk coming just from outside the Hall. Sam took a careful look and found a small crowd standing close to the entrance. Though the lighting was poor, merely a torch, he recognised the reflection of silver blond hair. It looked like Harry and Riddle’s closer friends were already on alert...

A wave of relief hit Sam.  
 _Harry’s friends were going to take care of things._ He was a bit apprehensive meeting them here, instead of the Great Hall, but he was an adult wizard not a little kid...

But as he took the first step he heard something that made him hesitate.  
“Do you have any idea where they could be? We must find them quickly.” it sounded like Hermione Granger. Sam swore inside. Riddle’s fiancée: _How much more complicated things were going to get?_

“Are you sure, Hermione? Maybe they won’t appreciate the interruption.” it sounded like Prince; _at least he had a bit of sense._

Hermione’s voice didn’t waver a bit.  
“Maybe they won’t, Zev. But as there is a third party involved I'm too afraid to.” a deep, deep, breath: “Imogen, please?”

“I'm not sure it’s applies, Hermione,” a softer, uncertain, voice finally answered her.  
“But Sam usually takes his dates at the astronomy tower.”

_Damn, they had gotten Imogen involved..._

He really wanted to scold her, for opening her mouth to his business, but all the same he appreciated that she didn't want to leave him at Riddle’s mercy. Sam approached them hastily, if his friends were already involved it was better to face things now.  
“Riddle and Harry are fighting to the training room in the Seventh floor, you better break them up.” he told them without pause.

They looked taken aback, not expecting him to take them unaware, _or still have all limbs attached,_ but he was surprised too: not only were his friends, Roger and Imogen, here but also the Gryffindor Leonard Potter and the assistant teacher Minerva McGonagall.

“Is Harry alright?” that was Zevi Prince, calm but with a huge underline of tension.

...And almost completely simultaneously:  
“Did Tom find you, together?” Granger, nowhere near calm, was wringing her hands.

“Where exactly did you say they were, inside or outside the R room?” Minerva was a bit more practical.

Sam felt his panic returning; he didn't know how much of help they were going to be, but he didn't like it one bit...   
-if Granger had asked what he thought she asked.  
“Please one at a time.” he pleaded to gain time.

“What happened mate?” Roger asked concerned and put a hand to his shoulder.

Sam relaxed a bit, he wasn't alone.  
“We were at the training room in the seventh floor, Riddle found us and it was nasty. When I left Harry was alright, but they were fighting and I’m not sure for how long it will stay that way, for either of them.”

“You mean duelling?” Abraxas had kept his usual suave tone even in this and Sam couldn't help a poisonous glare.

“No, I mean bloody muggle fighting, looking hell bent on killing each other.” he exploded.

The others winced.  
“Why, did Riddle caught you snogging, or something?” Leonard asked bluntly. Sam blushed with the directness, wondering what any of this had to do with the Gryffindor and why the hell he was so damn tactless...

“Nah,” Alphard smiled kind of unpleasantly, “he is alive and unhurt, isn't he?”

“Guys...” McGonagall’s voice was an order and both Gryffindor and Slytherin closed their mouths promptly, looking contrite.

The two other girls’ reactions were an apparent intense contrast. Imogen was a bright red, completely uncomfortable with the whole mess, but Granger, while clearly worried for Harry, was almost blank.

Sam wished he was anywhere but here-or at least that Granger wasn't here. He was a gentleman, it wasn't his place at all to give her hints, much less inform, of her fiancé’s probable indiscretions. Also he was already in deep shit with Riddle, if the Head Boy believed for a moment that he snitched on him there was nothing to save him from his hands...

Still, he was already into this, he owed Harry another try, before he was out of here.  
“Gentlemen,” he emphasized, “aren’t you going to go and break up your friends’ fight before they kill each other?”

Black and Prince -while concerned- didn't look so ready to interfere on the fight, Malfoy was unreadable.  
“Calm down Diggory, Tom and Harry fight all the time, they will be alright.” Black _–_ _He didn’t sound too sure though._

There was a deep crease between Prince’s brows.  
“Maybe we should go and check anyway,” he said to his friends clearly at dilemma.  
“You remember what happened the first time they had a physical fight and how it turned out?”

Roger and Imogen blanched with this but Black shrugged elegantly.  
“Come on Princess, you know how they are, trust them a bit.”

“I say we go to check now.” Hermione put it steely.

“I agree,” seconded Minerva. “If they are fighting in the seventh floor we’ll hear it from the stairs and we’ll wait to offer first aid, if they are in the room we’ll see.”

Hermione nodded vigorously and Roger, Imogen and Black reluctantly fallowed her, only Prince looked hesitant now -  _he had some sense to not allow the girls in there -_  but didn't say a word.

Abraxas, who hadn't contributed almost anything else in the discussion so far and was only leaning in a debonair way against the wall, suddenly found his voice.  
“Come now fellows,”he drawled in an artfully bored tone. “Do we really want to interrupt them?”

 _Wait a moment?  
_ Something dangerous flared inside Sam’s mindscape as the facts in his mind were finally correlating.  
- _It wasn't so much what Malfoy had said, but at how he said it, knowing and smug_.

Sam forgot the girls and his manners; the only thing that mattered any more were his bitterness and spite, both at being used like that and losing Harry. - _Just_ _when it looked like he could have a chance-_ and the justified anger...  
“You arse,” he gritted out, “you set me up, I never had a chance with Harry. The whole thing was just for Riddle to get jealous.”

Everyone froze with his declaration, and then it was utter chaos... the only replies that Sam managed to made out were Black’s enthusiastic one:  
“You dog! I hadn't you capable for something like this!”

...And Prince’s, much less enthusiastic counter:  
“Tom is going to kill you.”

Abraxas paled even more and tried to defend himself to not much success in this noise.

Sam was having the time of his life, he wasn’t a vengeful person, far from it, but it was sort of nice to see the person that got him in trouble,  
 _(_ _he was scared to bits for a possible retaliation from Riddle, even_ _–_ _or especially_ _–_ _if Harry supported him, as it was his style)_ facing exactly the same thing.

That lasted until Granger opened her mouth:  
“This can’t be,” she defended with indignation and Sam’s vindictive pleasure was out of the window, he had forgotten her.

 _-A girlfriend, never mind a fiancée, had nothing to do with these things and should remain properly unaware at all times. Yet, he had gotten and blew things up, himself, there was no way whatsoever to avoid death at Riddle’s hands_... he despaired.

But then she continued...  
“Harry would have never had agreed in such a play.” and he felt like his world was tilted sideways.

_Where was the anger, the resentment, the disgust... with her boyfriend looking at another boy, her best friend to boot? Her only problem with this, what truly made her indignant, was the allegation that her best friend was deceitful enough to use another boy to get at said boyfriend... Sam wanted a fiancée like that!_

“I never said that Harry had anything to do with this,” he defended, “he was as innocent as me in this, he didn't even approach me with the intention of flirting. As I said it was Malfoy’s fault.”

But Abraxas had enough of this and, instead of trying again to slippery get out of the accusation, answered with dignity:

“I never lied to you. No matter how I hope this will end for my friends. Tom and Harry weren’t dating at the time and you’re mistaken if you think that you never had a chance. You are the only one, except Tom, that he truly reacted this way. Harry is emotional; if things had gotten bad you were the only insurance that he wouldn’t take for places unknown.”

Heat bloomed at Sam’s face.  
“R-really?!” he stammered.

Abraxas smiled teasingly.  
“Yes, and even now it’s not like you gain nothing.”

“Like what?” Sam looked suspiciously; it was the exact smile that got him in trouble at the first place.  
Abraxas beamed.

“You are the most popular boy in the school, after them. If I'm right and they are finally together, all the offers they were getting will turn to you and me. People have a way to know when someone is truly unavailable; you can have your pick with the boys and I with the girls. My friends could have their share to the benefits too, but they got and fell in love,” he smiled towards his friends.  
“What do you say Diggory?”

Sam was still blushing and he refused to even think about the possibility that Abraxas’ plan had failed. By the way they were with each other, and mostly the way they fought, Tom and Harry were certainly in love, he had no business interfering to this. He smiled.  
“Assuming that Riddle doesn’t kill me, you are on.”

Abraxas rubbed his hands.  
“Assuming the same: Good!”

“Came now, Brax,” Hermione interfered, “We will keep this to ourselves.”

Black was laughing.  
“As the Zabini heir would say: _Omertà._ ”

But Abraxas didn’t look completely reassured, his eyes were on Prince.  
“Not a single word,” Zevi finally said, “I swear. As Alphard said... _Omertà_...”

Abraxas relaxed and everyone else repeated the foreign word.  
Sam had no idea what it mean but he didn’t sense any repulsing to his magic so he added it too.

Hermione beamed to all of them but it didn’t last for long.  
“That was good, but we don’t know for sure on what happened with the guys.” she observed.

“Seconded.”  
That was Minerva McGonagall again and just as firm.

“I don’t want you to go near them when they are like this.” Zevi told Granger softly and Black nodded vigorously.  
Sam’s eyebrows rose up.

“Neither do I, Zev,” Hermione answered in the same tone, “but I can’t wait until morning to find out, not when they could be dying...”

 _Wow! This wasn’t exactly a tone used to family, but then again they didn't look very alike, probably a misinformation that one, still, it looked like he had found out why Granger was so accommodating._ Sam still wouldn’t mind something like that- _much better than a little girl that considered him her knight in shining armour..._

She started pacing.  
“...There must be some way to check, I know it exist, I just can’t remember what...” she started wringing her hands again,  
“Maybe if I check up my room I could find it.”

Prince put his arm around her.  
“No need I know the spell, it’s a dark one, but we need something of his, -preferably his creation- for it to work.”

She bit her lips.  
“Wouldn’t the” (she mouthed the word) “mark work?” Sam thanked his good ears and that she was too ladylike to use a charm.  
 _Mark what kind of mark?_ But he knew better than to ask.

The others got interested in the discussion and surrounded her to hear better.  
“No, he ensured it wouldn’t, else we would have already tried.” Prince sounded sad.

Hermione got a really determined expression.  
“Then this will do, tell me what to do?”

‘This’: was a very small emerald pendant, snake shaped, very detailed.  
“Yes, this will be perfect.” Abraxas answered after a fast examination.

“I'm not so sure.” Zevi contradicted him. “Are you sure he didn't block it too? The consequences will be quite severe.”

Hermione nodded.  
“I'm sure, he conjured it in front of me.” she assured.

“No parseltongue?” Zevi insisted.

Malfoy and Black rolled their eyes and Hermione had a tender but long suffering tone.  
“No, Zev, no parseltongue, just the protean charm.”

Imogen and Roger looked at each other, surprised with the affirmation, but Sam had been close enough to them in the battle to know that both Tom and Harry were Parselmouths, so nothing new there, but still, something to consider the implications.

Prince let out a deep sigh.  
“Alright, as he given it to you, you must be the one casting, but you will be pretty much exhausted afterwards.”

“Oh for God’s sake Zev,” Hermione almost growled. “Give me that incantation.” she all but ordered.

He whispered it to her ear and Granger started muttering it to be sure, but as she took hold of the pendant preparing to cast Minerva stopped her.  
“Wait, if its going to be so tiring, why not lend you power, that way we’ll share the effects.”

“I don’t know, Min,” Alphard half protected, “this usually works with light spells.”

Zevi thought it for a moment.  
“I think the properties will work.” he said with conviction.

Minerva just looked at Alphard.  
“Alright, I’m in.” he said half laughing.

Abraxas didn’t wait enough to be told, he joined the circle and Leonard Potter followed.

Imogen bit her lip.  
“Won’t it hurt me because I'm a Light Witch and muggleborn?”

Hermione smiled.  
“I don’t think so.”

Imogen smiled too.  
“Alright.” she grabbed Roger and joined the others.

“Imo?” Roger half protested.

“Shh, for me and Harry.” she told him and he pretty much caved.

Now Sam was the only one outside the circle. He didn't particularly want to join in, not because he was such a Light fanatic that he was afraid of been contaminated with the Dark spell, but he would rather avoid Riddle’s feelings, especially if he was intimate with Harry. He had accepted it, but it still smarted.

 _Yet, he had sort of started the whole thing; it was his duty to see it to the end_.  
Resolutely he joined the others.

After everyone was touching the others, Hermione holding the pendant and Zevi her hands, she cast the spell. For a moment nothing happened and then he felt it. An echo of incredible possessiveness, triumph, passion and love, it lasted only a second but it left him dizzy.  
When he raised his head, everyone was avoiding the eyes of the others and blushing. Hermione and Zev were the brightest as they had felt it the strongest, they were also still holding hands, but he doubted that it had anything to do with the circumstances.

 _Abraxas_ _and he were going to have quite the offers after all..._

Abraxas _,_ found his voice first.  
“Well, looks like its mission successful!” he drawled.

“He is going to kill us. Both of them will.” Hermione breathed out.

“Indeed.” Zevi kept his voice steady but he was white as sheet. All of them were, as it finally sunk to them what kind of breach of privacy it was, and to whom.

The tense moment held a whole minute, but then Alphard found his voice.  
“Well, we already know the word. O-M-E-R-T-Ά.” he spelled out.

The tension in everyone’s body was suddenly freed with a huge cleansing laugh.  
“You know what?” Leonard shouted looking pretty much euphoric.  
“I just won the school’s bet! Tom and Harry got together before the New Year.”

Alphard laughed again.

“Congrats! Wish I had the guts to bet the same in Slytherin.” but the melancholy didn’t last for long.  
“What about you two?” he eyed Abraxas and him;  
“Will you go and check how popular enough are you before the news spread, or will wait?”

Sam didn't have the time to answer. Minerva’s voice was a dark purr.  
“Would you wish to be free so you could join them?” long nails half caressed half dig into Alphard’s hand.

Alphard gulped.  
“No baby, the funny thing is that Brax is already engaged.”

“So is Sam.” Roger piped out.

“I didn't know.” Leonard pointed out.

Roger, - _that traitor-_  didn't knew to stop.  
“It’s a Hufflepuff secret until the girl reaches sixteen: she is Deborah Smith from fourth year.”

Hermione crossed her arms.  
“Shame on you.”

Abraxas shrugged elegantly.  
“Me and Annelise have an arrangement, she is free I’m free.”

Hermione’s eyes lingered on him and Sam rubbed his eyes, _seriously_ , _'_ _She'_ was telling him that?  
“She is just a kid.” he reluctantly protested.

She didn't, _damn it_ , stop looking like that.  
“Harry won’t approve.”

This time it was too much. Sam laughed, it was kind of hysterical, but who cared anymore.  
“You,” he managed to say.

Hermione had the grace to blush.  
“Well, as everything else got out, we weren't truly engaged. It was a ploy of Tom’s to get Harry jealous.”

Sam laughed and laughed, he didn't know if it was from incredulousness or because even the great Tom Riddle himself needed such tricks...  
 _...and it didn't work too_... but it was quite cathartic.

The others didn't see it that way, they looked kind of embarrassed, but he didn't care.  
They couldn't leave soon enough...

First was Abraxas with a cool “Goodnight,”...then Leonard muttering something about “Finding Mel,” ... Alphard and Minerva vanished somewhere to be alone...The last ones were Zev and an apologising Granger, his dearest Imogen and, the not so dearest at the moment, Roger.

“I'm alright.” he told her to stop her, “but it really was funny.”  
 _Half truth, but who cared_.

She had the nerve to examine his face before leaving but a soft.  
“I wanted to dance with you all night,” made her blush and leave fast enough.

Only his friends stayed.  
“Go inside guys.” he prompted “I will head to the dorms, I'm okay, but I have to think.”

“Alright.” a sheepish Roger finally agreed and they left.

Staying alone in the corridor Sam realized that it was pretty much true. Not about Harry, or not exactly. Tonight he had seen and participated in something incredible. Light and Dark wizards working together...Even though the circumstances were dodged, there was only one common factor in this: Harry and Riddle.  
He had known since the battle that they must be Lords to be able to face Grindelwald in equal terms, for all his much greatest experience... and were probably the only ones capable of defeating him. But it went much further than that, he was enough politically involved, thanks to his father, to understand that should they win, the wizarding world was theirs for the taking, at any means they choose...

_A world without distinction between Light and Dark Magic!_

The prospect both terrified and exhilarated him. He needed to decide which exactly, so that he could act accordingly.  
Even if decided to follow the ideal he wasn’t sure that he would actively help, he didn't trust Riddle completely, with all that talk about killings and the man had quite the reason to dislike him, but he could fall to fire for Harry and not only from his hormones. He had to see what to do.  
One thing certain: tomorrow, in the train, he was going to take Prince, or Malfoy, aside or even Riddle himself - _if he had the guts-_  and warn them for Harry’s plan. Whatever he may decide, Harry wasn't allowed to die.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS Edited at 10/09/2114  
> Please review to inspire me for more...


	8. Communication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honesty between them... _Finally_...

 

**Chapter Eight: Communication**

_ **Harry’s pov** _

Harry came gradually to partial awareness, still half drugged from pleasure, due to a heavy weigh to his torso. A fast examination told him that it was Tom and a wave of unbelievable happiness filled his chest.  
But then he remembered...and froze with horror, awakening completely...

_What had he done?_

At the time, he had given in because he couldn’t bear to hurt Tom, but in truth he had done the opposite, the problems were still the same and so was the solution. If things had ended, his friend – _be honest here, the love of his life_ _–_ would have been hurt deeply, but also would have steeled himself for the much stronger pain that was coming and survive it. Now, he was completely defenceless and not only to his standards...

_Harry had acted with his heart and hormones, not his mind..._

His arms tightened around Tom reflexively and he buried his nose in soft hair that smelled faintly of sandalwood. He stilled, Tom mumbled something incoherent but other than that he didn’t even stir, continuing to sleep peacefully on Harry’s chest with his ear right above his heart.

He watched him suspiciously for a few moments, but neither breathing nor heartbeat changed pattern, Harry relaxed but was concerned too. _What kind of hours did Tom keep to be sleeping like that?_   Usually, he slept pretty late yet he managed to awake within a heartbeat, from the smallest sound, or even a change in the air...

_...Never mind why, that rare weakness was going to give him the time to sort off this mess..._

Yet, now that he was again calm, Harry noticed that Tom’s sleeping stance had an eminently practical reason, than merely an emotional one. With all his weigh supported on his body and his arms under his shoulders, it was virtually impossible for Harry to move him, no matter how gently, without waking him.

A wry smile touched Harry’s lips- _trust Tom to try and control the circumstances even asleep..._

Without an obvious escape in sign, he had to seriously think on what to do. For one, he couldn't just leave without a confrontation, or even if he could, it would make things worse. Two, he couldn't simply obliviate the knowledge from him. Aside from the ethical and emotional jam, there was the added complication that he had no idea on what Tom did the previous night and couldn't obliviate him from fear of damaging him, or even making the tampering apparent and so useless.

Harry ignored, trying to not even contemplate it, the heady temptation to fell back asleep, to let Tom pretend that nothing was wrong and just allow him to distract him for the next days. _T_ _wenty more days in Tom’s company, twenty nights in his arms._ Or the even madder possibility to accept Tom’s help in finding some way out, so he wouldn't have to die and leave him.

_But there wasn't such a solution that didn't have an even heavier price, there was no hope..._

Harry forcefully returned to the present, _he wasn't that cruel, he_ _wasn't_. _He wouldn't hurt Tom more than he had to,_   _but why had to hurt him anyway at all?_ _Now that he had even considered the unthinkable, why not go even further?  
Obviously, he couldn't accept a solution, but that didn't mean he couldn't continue like this for a while longer..._

It was going to be beyond torturous and he would have to stay in constant guard to not hurt anyone else for every second, every day, of his life, but he had almost managed for nearly two years so far and this time was he going to remember... _He was going to do this with his eyes wide open_...

Harry could bring himself to stay alive for the next two, three, or even five years, without hurting anyone. Just enough to help pass the heaviest troubles on Tom’s way...Tom loved him, he knew that now, but he was bored easily, how long could it last? Especially now that he would have him completely, nothing barred... So he should be alright with his death, after some years, even if he didn’t like it, and Harry would have some years of happiness.  _Much better than he ever dreamed..._

 _But, if he given in into this how many more things he was going to give in at the future? Who told him that if he capitulated now he wouldn’t do it again and again, for something worse?_ _What if Grindelwald proved too strong and, after they regrouped, the next battle would be for the wizarding’s world dominion, without said world’s consent?  
_ _Or even worst:_ _What if their campaign failed for some reason and Tom managed, in the end, to somehow convince him for the forceful approach?  
_ _Extreme scenarios aside_ , _who simply told him that the next time he hurt an innocent Tom wouldn’t soothe him with his words, or his body?_

_‘The whole world can burn away and if you’re okay I would be too.’  
_

That sentence hunted his every breath and was giving him shudders of both elation and terror; _he couldn’t, shouldn’t have to, cope with this_...  
The punch line was that Harry couldn’t trust himself...No matter how much he searched everything came back to this.- he couldn't continue like that. Yet, by whatever he chose to do, he couldn’t shield Tom completely...

But _maybe,_ a lesser shielding would be enough to spare his friend’s, _his love’s,_ feelings from a lifelong's suffering...Decision taken, for all this stomach churning, Harry concentrated and started taking apart the protections in his partner’s Munin band. He was going to obliviate Tom from the memory of their coupling- _he could do at least this much..._

His friend was going to wake up hours later, dressed and believing that Harry had rendered him unconscious in their fight, Harry would be long gone and if things had gone right, already petrified in Ireland. He felt really bad for Charlus Potter, but when it came to that, his wellbeing meant next to nothing compared to Tom’s.

 _Maybe for that reason alone Harry needed to die_...

Feeling sick with regret and guilt, but for all of that determined, Harry called his wand to him and tried to force out the incantation.  
But a soft, too soft, and steely voice stopped him.  
“Don’t.”

Harry met barely alert, darkened with rage and yet a strange understanding, violet eyes and held. _What could he say?  
_ No apology was ever going to make this right and Tom wasn’t to remember anyway. The regret was drowning him, but the grieving was all in his eyes, his voice was steady as he uttered the incantation.

Yet, he didn't manage to finish. Tom, exhausted or not, wasn’t sleepy enough to just accept it and flipped them over. Logically, being on top should have benefited him, but Tom used his fresh advantage and covered his lips with his own. Harry melted, for less than a second, but then his partner used just the right grip, making him release his wand.

The wand never crashed to the floor; Harry grabbed it in mid-air and -with the combination of a push and a jump back- was out of Tom’s clutches, but they were on an impasse, again. They faced each other, stony eyed, neither firing a spell, but neither backing down either.  
“How dare you?” Tom’s voice held contempt.

Harry, for all his guilt, bristled angrily.  
“You, of all people, telling me that?”

Tom, if anything else, glared even icier.  
“I never said I don’t understand your reasoning, darling, it’s the hypocrisy that enrages me. You kept holding that -one action- against me, up till today.”

Harry’s cheeks heated with shame and he offered a quiet:  
“I know.” but then managed to follow it up with a relatively confident:  
“It’s not the same.”

Tom titled his head, simply regarding him, _dreadful warming sigh_...  
The air itself felt oppressive.  
“No? Mind explaining the difference to me?” silky, poisonous, tone...

Harry shivered at the implied menace, Tom’s eyes weren’t red, but it made hardly a difference. He could sense his friend’s rage, even under that heavy shielding and it was nuclear; barely a step before critical...

...But it was that precise reaction that given him ‘The Idea’...

There was no way on earth to get out of this - _none whatsoever-_  as long as Tom kept his wits and a veneer of calm. Even if they fought, again, it wouldn’t do him any good. Yet, if he goaded him beyond measure, while he, himself, remained calm, he had excellent chances to get away and even get another opening to obliviate him.

Harry straightened his shoulders and opened his mouth with utter confidence. After all, he believed in what he was going to say.

“Of course there is a difference. I tried what I did, because there is no saving to me, I accepted it and I'm trying to protect you. You on the other hand were purely selfish, while there was possibly a hint of shielding; the main element of your own action was the desire to not get your plan disturbed.”

His plan had seemly more success than he had dared to dream. Veins started pulsing in his lover’s temples, neck and hands. Tom held his wand in a death grip, with said hands trembling violently, and his eyes were once again a blood red. Harry sensed that the only reason he didn't curse him and even stayed in his place, so far, was that if Tom made a single move the next step would have been to tear him from limb to limb with teeth and nails.

_But even that reaction could have been predicted..._

“You soddin’ little shit, you utter, bloody, retard...” and many more that Harry didn’t understand even half of them, to his absolute shock.  
“It’s completely the same thing. You only thought of yourself, trying to assuage your guilt for leaving me. But you didn’t care about me, just decided to die, you bloody coward.” Tom panted. “I should have killed you a long time ago but I’m not going to make you the favour.”

If Tom had processed to beat the crap out of him, again, it wouldn’t have hurt half as bad, only his temper held him on his feet.  
“You want to call me coward, selfish, hypocrite, do so. You will be right. But I can’t live like this, with my mind in scrabbles, I. Just. Can’t.” his voice broke, tears barely managing to not leak in his eyes.

Tom noticed his weakness and something undefined passed from his expression, he regarded him calmly; the anger and any other emotion had left his face, the only remaining rawness was in his eyes...  
“Why didn’t you come to me?”

 _God no!  
_ Harry closed his eyes tightly for a moment. Anger was so much easier to stomach. He couldn’t bear to look at Tom and this was the question he feared the most. _How to answer this one without making things even more intolerable?_

He chose defiance.  
“It wouldn’t change anything in the long run.”

Tom’s eyes flashed and narrowed, his lips thinned, but he kept his anger under control.  
“And the obliviate?” he pressured without mercy, voice again velvet over steel.

Harry didn’t know how long he was going to stand this, his defences were weakening.  
...A deep breath to fortify himself...  
“I offered the only mercy left to me to soften the blow and I won’t ask forgiveness for that.”

Tom still didn’t explode.  
“Did you really think it would make a difference?”

Harry started trembling, he thought that he had faced the worst already, but he was wrong. That understated, yet there, vulnerability of Tom’s, for all the matter of fact tone, was worst than torture, _of any kind._

Tom didn’t let him any time to regroup.  
“That ‘This’,” he indicated their state, “made a difference to what we are to each other? Really Harry?” he asked with apparent dark humour, but the use of his given name deeply underlining how dead serious Tom was.

That was it, Harry’s defences were good as dust and the only thing he wanted and needed was to find shelter in Tom’s arms, if his love killed him now it wouldn’t have mattered in the slightest.

“Do you really think that I would have chosen to leave you if there was choice involved?” he admitted hoarsely, barely managing to contain himself and not give in to his need to seek comfort, but in the end it wasn’t about him and that helped...

Tom didn’t answer that one, merely continued to look at him with those wounded steely eyes, compelling him to surrender. Harry couldn’t stand that look, or their nakedness, ‘psychic’ and physical alike, now that he was really aware of it, so he tried to call his clothes, without result. The only thing he managed to get back was his glasses.

“Look,” Harry said with the least of his weary will, “you, either, curse me, kill me, or let me leave; nothing else is going to happen.”

Tom tilted his head and smiled his shark smile.  
“I don’t think so sweetheart. As you were so kind to remind me your promise earlier, demand one: Sit down and let’s talk about this, honestly, like civilised people, and until we'll find a solution.”

Harry had no choice but to sit beside Tom, but strangely enough some of his raw despair had left him too...

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

_ **Tom’s pov** _

Tom watched Harry, with narrowed eyes, as he hesitantly started to approach him and finally came and sat at the edge of their transfigured couch. _(Much better for business than a mattress)_ The mixed look of concentration and irritation on his face and the shift of magic in the room was indication enough that he hadn’t admitted defeat yet, trying to summon his clothes, and even the door, back.

A faint smile crossed Tom’s lips.

 _It was very fortunate, indeed, that it was his own wish that had gotten them into the room and so his desires held precedence_.  
The more distracted Harry was the most chance he had to stopping him from doing something stupid.

To that effect he let him stew to his own juices for a little while, hoping that it would calm them both so that he would finally knock some vital sense into Harry’s stubborn head, without giving into his rage. He was still past angry, of course, and frankly surprised with his restrain to not kill him, but much more so with the sanctimonious reasoning than the attempted obliviate.

He could accept that, to a point and even understand it; his Harry looked beyond panicked - _not for himself but Tom-_ and that helped too. Not that he wasn’t planning to chastise him and make him pay -repeatedly- in due time, but that was for when things were back under control.

Tom’s rage though shimmered, most of all, against himself due to his own weakness. He was aware, since long before, at how better he slept beside Harry, but while that hardly mattered before, due to the infrequency, this time his lack of sleep and their intimacy made him an easy victim. If Harry had fewer scruples, or truly wanted it, he would have ended obliviated and that was unacceptable.

Equally unacceptable was the depth that he was affected from said intimacy. If Harry hasn’t pulled hastily back after he got kissed, Tom feared that he would had delayed his demand for an explanation, in favour to retaking him to bed and that, while useful by itself as distraction wasn’t a guarantee, in any sense, that his crazy lover would stay were he was supposed to, instead of running away.

_And that was the least of his problems with this!_

Tom would never admit it on a living (or unliving) soul, especially Harry, but he never expected that would get so affected from a sexual act. (or repeated ones) It wasn’t the pleasure, although it was much stronger than what had anticipated. No, everything came back again to their connection...

Tom had always been beyond drawn to the treasures of emotions that Harry was displaying with his eyes and this time he had gotten so much more than the mere, simple, view of them. Tonight, had gotten Harry’s whole self and such love that would have suffocated many others, more acquainted with feelings than him.  
But, strangely enough, _he wanted to lose himself in this_...

 _...And if that wasn't enough,_   _the moment of ecstasy had truly brought them together as one..!  
_ It was utterly ironic that the dream of every idiotic couple, every sappy romance novel around the world for centuries, had been realised due to dark magic! But beyond paradoxically, Tom wasn’t repulsed with the fact. _It was his to have and he was going to fight tooth and nail to keep it..._

This was the closest he was ever going to get with Harry surrendering to him, getting voluntary and utterly under his power.  
His, all his, to every meaning of the word...  
 _There had never been a rush of power such as this!_ _  
_

_Not that it lasted that long...  
_

Almost immediately post coitus Harry’s indomitable will was back and he was ready to do his thing and damn the consequences...  
So he was quite conflicted at this moment, wanting to either kill Harry, both for insulting his emotions in such a blatant way and stirring them in the first place, bring him back underneath him, or run away, at the forbidden forest, to escape from his feelings.

_He wasn’t made for such humanity and emotions..._

But, even with such complete chaos inside him, he couldn't help a covert, cursory, glance at Harry... They had gotten rid, between rounds of intimacy, their bruising from the fight and now the only marks left on Harry’s body had been caused from Tom’s lips, teeth, whisker’s burn, hands and nails... _further proof of his ownership_...

No other kind of official, stylised, mark was ever going to satisfy him on Harry, compared to this. Even the little snake, that planned to return promptly, would look dull and without meaning compared to something so personal...

... _But, what if he changed the properties of said mark a bit and instead based it on sense memory..?  
_

The snake would roam Harry’s body based on his back, instead of arm, and would recreate the feelings of each hickey, bite, graze, scratch, or kiss and could fade back to said marks, reminding Harry constantly on whom he belonged to, but without giving him a reason to complain for it...

 _Oh yes!_ That idea more than pleased Tom, and he felt much calmer...he could deal with his suicidal partner now, without throttling him...

And Harry, though he had left him unsupervised for quite a few moments, didn’t look like he was planning his escape. He still looked awfully tense and his forehead was creased in worry, but he was examining Tom, in his turn, with something like wonder in his eyes and burning cheeks...  
Tom smirked knowing and leaned back against the couch’s arm to display better his own mark -even more noticeable than his partner’s due to his fairest skin. Usually a lack of clothes was perceived as weakness, _this time it was the opposite_...Harry blushed even more and the heat caught to his eyes too, but he didn’t avert said eyes, knowing that he had every right to look, and instead took his time tracing eagerly and purposely every single mark.

 _He truly didn’t mind in the slightest that knowledge_...

Tom felt every lingering glance like a caress and it thrilled him to his core that Harry was possessive and obsessing too. Their, _finally_ , open link was bursting with the intensity of their feelings and their bond was almost complete.   
 _Harry’s feelings looked genuine; it was unlikely to ever leave him_...

If he was completely honest, _it was no small relief..._ _Attraction was one thing and even flawed, this was so much more... Though there had been doubts on that line too..._ Tom wasn’t going to recall on how many times had grew disgusted to be looked that way from anyone but the very one he may welcome, _the only one who truly saw him..._

_...But those thoughts weren't for now...  
_

Tom waited until his, often infuriating, lover had his fill and when Harry raised his eyes he met them straight on. Both sizzled with the intensity but he had no intention whatsoever to give in to this, _again_ , until things were fixed. The tension mounted until it almost reached its peak...  
Only then Tom spoke.

“I repeat, why you didn’t come to me?”

Harry recoiled as if slapped.  
“I already told you, you can’t help me.”

Tom wondered if Harry was still trying to enrage him,  _-but no-_  he sounded truly desperate...  
“You’ll be surprised.”

Instantly Harry was suspicious.  
“What did you do?”

A gleeful smile crossed Tom’s features, _finally he could share...  
_ “Yesterday night I acquired Philosopher's Stone!”

Harry froze.  
Tom wanting to move hastily past the ethics’ bitching, (no matter how much he perversely missed those) added:  
“The Flamels are still alive.”

Harry still didn’t look happy...  
Tom’s irritation started mounting again; he didn’t look up for Harry’s approval, but that was getting ridiculous...

Finally Harry spoke:  
“For how long did you know?” his voice was hollow.

Something like relief washed over Tom. _That was all?_  
“Not much, only since the battle on Halloween.” he teased.

Harry wasn’t amused.  
“Weren’t you busy?” he asked archly.

Deep inside his mind, Tom was celebrating, _Harry had been jealous after all!  
_ _...Still, it would hardly do to show his weakness...  
_ “Yes, quite busy, saving you neck, like usual.” he pointed out sharply.

“Oh!”  
Harry blushed but didn’t add anything more.

Tom was getting truly worried.  
“What’s wrong with you? Horcruxes can add to instability, manic depression and mindless rage, but I've never heard of creating stupidity.”

Thankfully that snapped out Harry, a tiny bit.  
“Really, what about Voldemort?” he smirked.

Tom smirked back but didn’t let go.  
“Nothing that can explain you, now talk.”

Harry finally pinned him with his eyes.  
“Me? You were the one that knew for so long and didn’t tell me.”

 _Subterfuge again!_ Tom returned the glare, not impressed.  
“Really darling, the first thing you did was to try obliviating me, that doesn’t bode well at all for the rest, so I will retain my judgement.”

Harry didn't respond even to this...  
Tom didn't have much patience and grasped his friend’s face, forcing him to look at him. _The hell with the no touching policy, he wasn’t some idiot that couldn’t control his hormones_.

Harry didn't resist, looking instead somewhat lost. His expression was neutral, but his eyes were telling a very different tale, _even back to heavy occluding_ , with hope and despair fighting for dominance, and despair the clear winner so far.  
“Harry?” he demanded.

Harry’s expression cleared, leaving behind a happy mask and he leaned more against his hands.  
 _Yes, even his eyes... but when the hell had Harry learned to lie with his eyes?  
_

“Thank you Tom, for getting in all that danger for me,” his voice was honest in this, but probably it was the only thing that was...  
“So when can I have some Elixir?”

 _Here it was,_ he had caught the sham!  
Harry, wasn't exactly lying as were the terms of his obligation, but he was hardly telling the truth just the same, Tom didn’t betray any of his thoughts, waiting to catch him red handed.

“Not so soon, I haven’t managed to crack the Stone, yet.” truth.  
“Maybe we’ll need to leave for a while, as I promised, so that you won’t have to worry of accidentally hurting them.” bait.

There wasn't much of a reaction, except the smallest possible relaxation to his muscles. There was of course the option that it was due the danger to his friends departing, but Tom didn’t believe it for a second. He changed his gripping from simply restraining to painful.  
“You have no intention whatsoever to drink the Elixir, right darling?”

“Tom...” there was a minute regret in the green eyes, which then turned into green fire and Harry pushed him away with all his strength and bolted off the couch.

Tom was already in a precarious position and the shoving hit him hard; he had been forced to let go of Harry’s face to keep his balance, but he didn’t let it to stop him, continuing his verbal attack and pointing his finger towards Harry.  
“The truth, love, you’re under oath, you could lose your magic.”

Harry glared heatedly.  
“Give me back my clothes.”

Tom smirked.  
“I prefer you like that, give me some facts and maybe...”

Harry snarled, giving up any pretence.  
“Damn it Tom, we both knew that I can’t take that philtre and everything that comes with that.”

Tom was a bit shocked. _Harry was taking the term unpredictable to rare lengths...  
_ “You are putting your aversion to been immortal above the safety of those around you, not something I would have expected of you, golden boy.” he taunted to get a comprehensible reaction.

The little bastard had the nerve to roll his eyes at him at a moment like this.  
“I never expected you to play the idiot, Tom; we both know that it’s not the Elixir, nor being immortal, the problem. It’s the horcrux.”

Tom’s forehead creased. _Harry couldn't be saying what he thought that he_ was saying...  
Anything else aside, he didn't even know where the horcrux was hidden in the first place...  
“You will be safe, I thoroughly checked.” he edged to make sure.

Harry looked somewhere between crying his eyes out and murdering him.

“Fine, you want to hear it, you will,” he squared his shoulders and carried on. “I'm so damn sorry for what I put you through in my time’s year,” he walked purposely the few steps that parted them and fell almost gracefully on his knees in front of him.   
“No matter how much heartfelt is my apology for this, or what I may do to make it up to you, it'll never going to be enough. All the same, I lack the strength to endure the same thing.” his eyes were honest, painfully remorseful, but still steely...

Tom’s mind went almost completely blank, he couldn't comprehend what he was hearing, yet the meaning was completely clear. There was only one cohered thought in his head:  
 _O_ _nly Harry could make kneeling a defiant gesture..._

Once the uproar and chaos in his head calmed somewhat, _thankfully quite fast_ , he called forth his best acting skills.  
“What makes you so sure that I took it into myself?” he asked nonchalantly.  
“...and get up, I don’t like you there...” almost as aftershock.

Harry merely looked at him with those eyes...  
“Tom, give me some credit, I know that you value it, me, too much to put it anywhere but there.” then he realised what he said and blushed.  
“Also our link had been doubled for as long as I have been here to the very least, as I said, give me some credit here.”

Tom had enough of this madness; he grabbed Harry, none too gently, and dragged him to their couch, all the while, half reassuring, half grounding himself that _even Harry couldn't love him that frigging much...  
_ “I assure you, I will be alright.” he gritted out. _But still, he should have anticipated this, Harry was nothing if not self sacrificing..._

Harry wasn't exactly reassured.  
“Bullshit, if it was that easy I would have taken it back ten times over with my efforts, conscious and not, but you have locked it so deep inside that it’s now a part of your own soul.”

Tom told himself that a sound beating on Harry would have negative effects at the moment...  
“I can guarantee to you that the danger to me is minimal, I will drink from the Elixir too...”

His friend wasn’t happy even with that...  
“It’s not enough; you will be messing with your head and nothing can negate the danger to that, not even the Elixir from Philosopher’s Stone.” he declared in a final tone.

Tom’s blood started pounding dangerously again...

“You don’t know that for sure... according to my calculations the danger to me will be a tenth to what it was to you, if that. Anyway, even if I end with the mind of a little kid’s you’re going to raise me up splendidly, way better than the orphanage, I know for a fact that you will love me with everything you have.” he added the last part with deliberate cruelty, needing to shatter that pigheaded resolve to the matter once and for all.

He was prepared for the fist that came, flying, for him and shifted accordingly. Harry was on him the next second, but this time he was the only one mad with rage, with Tom himself quite calm, and it wasn’t very long that Harry ended beneath him, on the floor, panting, and with dilated eyes.

Tom told himself that it was only just a little bit more pressure and then they could deal with more pleasant things...  
“I claim the second of the ten items owned to me. You will drink the Elixir and take the horcrux back **.-** ”

Harry paled and then his expression firmed.  
“No **.-** ” he said simply.

 _Surely_ , he must not be hearing right, _not even Harry could be idiotic and stubborn enough to go against this...no, this must simply meant, that as a last act of defiance, he demanded two, not one, favours to be used...  
_ Tom could deal with that, _it was small potatoes compared to the final reward._

“What do you meant, No?” he asked all the same.

Harry had turned a faint green but he regarded him serenely.  
“Exactly what you guessed, Tom, I won’t go forth with that, for anything, so let our magical oath do what it will.”

The word stunned wasn't covering even a fifth of what Tom felt at that moment. Never in his life before had a storm of such magnitude taken place, not even when he tore his soul to create a horcrux and mended Harry’s.

_His nutty, beloved, soulmate apparently loved him that much!_

_Harry wasn't just putting him above his life and sanity, which to be honest he risked regularly, at least the first part, for almost everyone... But above his magic, which was something completely different..._

Tom felt the room turning around him...

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

_ **Harry’s pov** _

Harry used Tom’s light-headedness to move him from above his body and was up in a flash getting towards the, now visible, door. His whole body was painfully tense, like the after-effects of the Cruciatus, as he literally felt his magic leaving him.  
 _It was better that way!_

He was almost regretting that he hadn't thought of it sooner. There was no way that he could be a threat to a magical person as a squib, Tom would want nothing to do with him, of course, but even then he would still prefer him alive. Harry didn't really want to die if he could help it,  
 _-he was just nineteen for Salazar sake!_ He wanted the warmth of the sun and to see what changes Tom would do, even by the sidelines.

_Who knows, maybe with time they could even get back to a shadow of their friendship..._

With the last vestiges of his magic he recalled his clothes and ran as fast he was able to the stairs. He had barely reached the middle of the second staircase when Tom voice frozen him on his tracks, literally.  
“Stop right there and stay still.”

Tom must have transferred the final demand as he felt his magic returning to him with a rush. He tried to resist the command, and just continue on, but his body was celebrating its magic’s return and refused to lose it again for something that simple...   
it didn't obey him.

“Dammit, Tom let me go, it will be better this way.” he complained on principle, but somewhere inside himself was quite relieved to have his magic back, nonetheless the problem was still there...

“Really, how so?” melodic mockery. “...Although I must admit that committing you at Janus’ Thickey Ward sounds more alluring by the second.” Tom answered lightly and took his time to descend the stairs.

Harry gritted his teeth with something akin to hate, as he was forced to wait for him, long, endless, moments, almost helpless.  
“Sounds better than your company.” he told his partner, half meaning it.

Tom finally reached him, almost completely silently.  
 **“Don’t tempt me sweetheart.”** he whispered to his ear.

Harry shivered with the tone, half promising half threat and averted his face. _He wasn't going to do him the favour...  
_ Tom didn’t seem to care, either way, for his reaction, throwing him on his shoulder, like a sack of potatoes and taking up the stairs, again.

Harry cursed like a sailor in his outrage, but it provoked no reaction. Thankfully the moment Tom started moving his compulsory freeze stopped and was able to fight.  
“Let me the hell down.” he ordered.

Tom continued to ignore him, he fought harder.  
“Would you prefer bridal style, love, I don’t mind.” he mocked him.

Harry saw red.  
“Tom, you bastard, let me down this instant, or you’ll pay.” he punched Tom’s back again and again.

Tom’s handle on him became more painful and secure his voice a very dark promise:  
“Bring it on later. But one more move now and I'm throwing you all the way down, so you can spend Christmas with Madame Wilson.”

Harry would have preferred to avoid that, even more than the pain and stayed still, only insulting his parentage and so forth. That, until they had, roughly, reached their floor. Then he started trashing, ferociously, again, Tom simply stunned him...

...He regained his senses the moment he was thrown back to their couch. The room looked like a fortress; Tom didn’t seem to taking chances...  
“Back here?” he asked indifferently to gain time.

Tom smiled brilliantly but with an edge.  
“I thought about taking you to the chamber, but I didn't trust myself to not torture you to death...”

The tone was light and humorous but the threat very real, Harry nodded his understanding...

He continued on:  
“...You also left your wand here...that was idiotic even for you...”

Harry shrugged.  
“I knew that you would take it... you bothered to get dressed before getting me.”

Tom’s smile changed meaning, but was still very shark like...  
“Someone was disappointed!” he teased, “don’t worry darling, it’s easily fixed, you needed only ask...” his hands moved to his tie.

“Tom, stop that...” Harry ordered and to his horror it came out completely breathless. He blushed horribly, probably down to his chest, and realised that Tom was deliberately distracting him again. He needed to stop that before getting further...  
“It would have been better if you had left me leave.” he resumed the previous matter, point blank.

All the teasing laughter left Tom’s face and it turned rather unpleasant.  
“You told me that before, but without any backing up, so don’t expect me to take you seriously any time soon.”

Harry wanted to scream in aggravation... -  _What the hell? Did Tom really believe that he actually wanted to die..?  
_ “You are well versed in logic so you know why better than me,” ...then he remembered something and paled with horror.  
“It would have been better for you if you had stuck with Hermione.” he told his friend, _(_ _better to think of him only as a friend_ _)_ sadly.

Tom was both surprised and dismayed with that comment.  
“Granger, what on earth has the little shrew to do with us?”

Harry, already drowning in guilt, since it crushed on him how hideously he had betrayed her with his actions, felt his shame turning to rage.  
“Funny thing that,” he stated coldly, “since you spent almost a month in her bed and called her your fiancée to the whole school...but I guess its meant nothing.” he told Tom bitterly.

Tom seemed to be considering his next words very carefully as he recognised Harry’s expression and tone.

“I was never truly together with Granger, never mind engaged to her. She turned me down because she didn't want to hurt you and we have been researching day and night on how to help you. The clues had always been there for one with your perception.” a breath.  
“I’ve never given her a formal promise, or a ring. The only jewellery she got from me was the snake pendant, modelled after your mark. I’ve been expecting you to catch on the date coincidence to the very least, but you missed even that...” he added with some bite.

Harry was stricken. _Hermione had done that?_

He knew she cared for him deeply, but her feelings for Tom had been just as real and that was making his betrayal that much worst...  
But at the top of his misery he started thinking.  _What really told him that Tom wasn't simply lying to get his cooperation?  
Hermione could do that for him, no question asked, but he hadn't slipped in her presence, not even once..._

“You are lying.” he accused Tom, almost certain.

Tom sent him a disdainful glare then smiled chillingly.  
“Am I, really, are you sure? It sounds more like denial to me... Anyway Hermione wasn’t the only one working with me in this, Prince researched in his field as well, and even Minerva and your grandfather did everything in their power to help.”

Harry’s mind was in scrambles, trying to decide what was real and what not. Tom had that cold, smokescreen, attitude, but there was and a ring of truth as well... Also, it wasn’t in Tom’s nature to share credit, far from it, so while the target was undeniably to guilt him even more there was definitely some honestly there as well...

He was damn well succeeding!

Harry couldn't even bear to think about the others fighting to save him...and the thought of Hermione was the worst of all. A lighting fast perusing to his memories established that Tom had been somewhat truthful. While not obvious, there were many instances that Hermione had looked very uncomfortable with Tom acting her boyfriend, especially in his direct presence and not only recently.

But there were other memories as well...

Instances that he had seen them acting very couple like. Even a memory he would rather not have... _T_ _he single time he honestly cursed their bond_... Harry wasn’t going to discard that, no matter what Tom wanted, his friend had been after her for almost a year; _it looked more like he had got bored with her than anything else..._

... _The last part was the most horrible of all_...not only in regards to her pain, or the apparent conclusions Harry could make regarding his own relationship with Tom...  _But because, he was selfish, and had been, somehow, counting on said feelings, for Hermione to take care of Tom, afterwards._

The moment that - _horrifying-_ thought crossed his mind he made the equally terrible mistake of raising his head and meeting Tom’s eyes.  
Their link was short of open and some of it passed through...

Harry barely managed to duck the curse headed his way, but there wasn’t much left of their couch.  
“That was mean.” he called out.

Tom merely regarded him chillingly and sent another curse.  
“Hardly.”

He managed to duck again, wondering why it was so terrible to set Tom off when the obliviate didn’t...  
“I thought you wanted to save me, not kill me.”

Reason returned, momentarily, to the handsome features.  
“You set me up with Her! Like if I was one of your Minions.” each word an icicle with each sentence's end stretched.

Harry winced and raised his hands in a placating gesture. He could hardly disagree about semantics right now...  
“Not really, I only wanted you to be friends, you did the rest by yourself...”

Another attack, hastily raised shields and impasses to block the way, but no returned attack.

Tom continued on...  
“You suggested that I personally teach her the dark arts, you insisted on it...”

Harry’s blood started heating on with the familiar infuse of adrenaline...  
He refused to ponder at how close it proved to be on another kind of excitement...  
“So? You took her to bed, that’s all on you...” he kept his voice normal with effort...

Tom...Tom was laughing...  
“You’re still on that? I never took Granger to bed, not even once; I can’t believe you of all people fallen for that trick, especially after our second fifth year.”

Harry looked at Tom with wide eyes.  
“You mean it was merely a conjured dream...But how, why?”

Tom returned the look, mockingly.  
“You know perfectly well why, as to the how, you could do it too, quite easily.”

Harry glared.  
“Of course I understand...you wanted me out of your hair to research, but I have still problems with believing the how... One, it was too clear a recollection to be anything but a memory, immediate or recent and two, you put too much time and effort with courting Hermione to be a sham.”

Tom nodded once, sharply, conceding a point.  
“Of course my courting to Hermione was real, she is too bright to remain alive unmarked and unchecked and she would have never conceded to get marked. This was the optimal way for me to let her live, yesterday’s reasons stands too.”

 _Oh...  
_ A nameless kind of dread started coiling at Harry’s stomach at the clinical tone and he pushed it aside, for now...

“Thank you very much...” he was both sarcastic and honest. He didn’t like this mess at all, but very much appreciated Hermione staying alive.  
He bit his lips, disgusted with himself.  
“Couldn't you mark her unwillingly, like Umbridge?” _he couldn’t believe he thought it, never mind said it...but if it kept her alive..._

Tom shook his head and got into lecturing mood.  
“No, for that kind of binding to last one must be willing, or at least accepting. The only reason that I managed to pull this off it’s because the bitch longed for that all her life, you have seen her how she looks at us...”

“Yeah?” Harry had seen and frankly it was quite disgusting... _but...break was over, time to face his fear_... _T_ _he bright side_...  
If Tom had taken Hermione to bed some other time, _his plan may still work...  
_ “What about the dream then? I've never known you to been intimate with anyone before...” his cheeks were tinged scarlet, but he had asked.

Tom tried to stare him down but Harry persisted, for all his awkwardness. Finally his friend sighed in frustration and complied.

“You know perfectly well that I wasn't... I can hardly stand anyone -except you- touching me, but needs must, I was going to tolerate it...Granger would have never accepted waiting until marriage and I had no intention whatsoever to been ridiculed... What you saw came from the pictures of a pretty explicitly illustrated book...”

There was a small part of Harry’s that felt quite the satisfaction that Tom never touched anyone but him, but on the most part he felt alarm. - _Tolerated?_ That was an ugly word when used on that connotation and the reassurance ‘other than you’ sounded too faked and farfetched to be much of comfort...

 _Fact one:_ Tom never seemed to have much, if anything, of a libido. _Fact two:_ he would do literally anything to keep him alive. _Fact three:_ at the height of passion, at round two, Harry’s hands had travelled instinctually very low and Tom had grabbed them immediately away. At the moment he had assumed that his lover was simply averse to receiving, ever, which was disappointing, yet predictable, and far from now.

_But what if the disgust went even further than that?_

Those facts, together with Tom’s cementing admission, were creating a very grimy picture; Harry had been lightly distrustful of Tom’s motivations ever since he awoke, but now those suspicions were touching the whole encounter, not merely the end... _It certainly wasn't past him to set the whole thing up_...With every breath he took the doubts became certainly...and his world turned to ashes...

He had to admit that he hadn't fought as hard he could when Tom forced him back, _he wanted to stay..._ and even started to reconsider staying without merging with the horcrux, but if Tom had only touched him as a means of persuasion what kind future did they had?  _How long until their personal moments were dwindled till they were used only as modification to his behaviour? How long until he turned into a male Bellatrix Lestrange? (Insane and all!)_ Harry longed to die and get away of these all... he had foolishly believed that he had been past the worst kind of hurt that Tom could inflict on him, but this was asphyxiating...

_The most ironic part..?_

The knowledge that Tom was proven really in love with him, just not in the truly physical way...  
 _He would have been much better off if he had managed to leave and never found out...  
_ “You didn't have to do that Tom, I would have stayed with you no matter what.” the words left his mouth without his permission, but utterly heartfelt.

Tom was surprised with this, but his look turned immediately to calculating.  
“Would you, really?” voice soft and deadly as silk.

Harry had the affirmation intellectually ready, but still managed to think.  
“Circumstances permitting, of course.”

Tom’s jaw clenched.  
“Bullshit.”

Harry wanted to rub his eyes, hearing Tom swear that frequently was quite disconnecting.  
“Tom, please.”

Tom’s eyes flashed.

“Please what? You hypocritical creature... you knew perfectly well that people –other than you– mean nothing to me. How dare you to doubt me by using that? I'm a good actor, darling, but no one is that good... _ **You were there**_...” the last part was a deadly hiss, like Tom couldn't bear to admit his weakness in English and that seemed to steam him even more...

Harry started trembling; Tom’s words brought him back to those blissful moments and were hitting him like a tidal wave.  
 _Put it like this, his worries had no true leg standing to complain..._

But before he could admit that Tom continued.  
“...I have far more valid reasons to doubt you, not only you’re planning to leave me like I meant nothing, but you were ready to go to bed with Diggory as well... maybe the whole point for you had been to have sex, irrelevantly with whom...”

Harry raised his hand to punch Tom, then let it fell, his lover had a valid point.  
They weren't the voiced reasons, far from it, but he almost got to bed with Diggory.

“You’re right, I thought about going to bed with him, but only because at the end I didn't really care if I hurt him, I tried to resist you -us- for the opposite reason.”

Tom’s eyes had become twin clips of ice.  
“How reassuring!” he drawled.

Harry gulped at the near hateful look he was receiving.  
“I never, ever, wanted to hurt you...” the emotion in his eyes and voice was making the admission more than simply skin deep.

Something softened imperceptibly at Tom’s eyes, like a tiny chink, but his voice was hoarse.  
“Then stop trying to convince me allowing you to leave me... to fucking die.”

Harry’s voice wasn’t too steady either.  
“I don’t have a choice.”

Tom turned coaxing.  
“Of course you have, you need only trust me, we will be alright, both of us...”

Harry barely held back his tears, Tom was all but pleading with him, even without using the actual words...  
He couldn't stand the thought of hurting him, _of breaking him_... _yet, it was happening_... his mind started working furiously again – _he couldn't, wasn't, going to do as Tom wished,_   _but there must be something...?_

A totally unhinged idea crossed his mind and he almost smiled.  
It was nauseating and beyond humiliating...– _but it could work–_...It left him stuck to the proverbial wall, completely at the other’s mercy...  
No more than a toy... _But it would work_...he just needed the courage to utter it...

Harry bit his lips bloody and managed it.

“I can’t accept your plan, but I will never leave you either... I won’t live like this, I lack the strength. But if you arrange for Sava to petrify me I will be alright with it. I will be safe from myself and you will have me all to yourself... If you need me to bounce ideas, to simply talk...or something else, I will be just a mandrake’s draught away.” he barely managed to avoid vomiting the heavy bile in his throat, due to his proposition, but his cheeks were still fire-red from the latest suggestion...

He hated it – _how he hated it– and himself with it_ , but he hoped to God, or Gods, that Tom was going to accept it...

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

_ **Tom’s pov** _

Tom took his second, heavy, shock of this night of shocks. The only reason he managed to avoid the dramatics of the previous one’s was that, while huge on its on right, it was truly dwarfed by the preceding one in comparison. Yet after some calming breaths and thought it wasn't that much of a surprise. He was very aware of Harry’s nature and that specific trait was what he adored and despised most of all. His friend, lover, and everything in between and beyond, was utterly unable to bend where others dictated; he would rather shatter all the way first than giving in.

Harry looked like he wished to be anywhere but here, yet was well beyond determined to proceed. He may hate. – _N_ _o, not hate, it wasn't strong enough a word, loathe was more accurately fitting_ , _to give up control over himself_ _and this was the ultimate surrender of every aspect of his life and self_ – but Tom could read him more than enough: he had already chosen petrification as his fate and wasn't moving an inch from that decision, the only extra he was adding was to give him full access.

_All in all it wasn't such a bad bargain, few years back he may had been sorely tempted, somehow now it didn't seem quite enough..._

His thoughts remained private though and he made a show of examining his partner critically, not with the usual warmth or regard, but with the casual possessiveness he reserved for his less valuable things. Harry had taken a stoic mask, but under that gaze he started turning a faint green, obviously having second thoughts, with only his stubbornness to keep him steadily there.

 _Good!_ He needed to really think on what he was offering.

A truly chilling smile crossed Tom’s features and he raised his hand to mark his property. His lover’s eyes widened as he sensed the threat and he barely managed to not flinch. Tom’s nails were nowhere near long like a female’s but after a parody of a caress there were four new, long, bloody rivulets at Harry’s cheek, Harry didn’t move an inch, or complained.

“Do you really want that my love...?” the particular endearment was used derogatory and not even close to the usual teasing.  
Harry didn't react...

Tom continued on.  
“To be nothing, but my property, a toy, less than that, an inflatable doll that needs my permission to breathe?”

Harry’s eyes looked more pained with every word and he blushed horribly, but he accepted every verbal slap with equanimity, Tom needed to get more creative if he was to get a reaction.  
“Are you so afraid that I will leave you that you prefer never finding out if I do?”

This time Harry actually flinched.  
“Take it or leave it...” he growled out.

But Tom wasn't fooled with that show of anger, that flinch told him all he needed to know and it was more than welcome.  
 _Maybe with a bit of trying he could get exactly where he wanted to, no compromising._

“There is a problem with that, my love,” this time it was indeed an endearment and his voice a soft caress at Harry’s ear.  
“I don’t want a toy, or an inflatable doll...What I need is my equal, my partner, at my side, in either triumph or despair, from now on till the end of time...Can you accept and give me that?”

He could read Harry’s answer both to the overwhelming warmth in his eyes and the feverish affirmative to his soul. Tom would deny it immediately, but his own heart had actually skipped a beat, too. Unfortunately it wasn’t verbalised that way, after barely a second Harry’s eyes cooled considerably and his shields came right back.

“I won’t risk you.”

 _This was getting tiring...  
_ “Then we are through.” he almost but not quite bluffed.

Harry closed his eyes tightly but when he opened them a second later there was only acceptance.  
“As you wish.”

 _Tom had more than enough with this...he was done with playing nice, it was truly time for Harry to remember with whom was dealing with...  
_ “Are you sure?” he purred. “Because if you leave, I won’t have but a single choice... So think carefully before answering.”

Harry looked alarmed but not even nearly close to a sufficient amount.  
“What on earth do you mean?”

Tom sent Harry his more chilling smile to the day.  
“You better kill me before leaving, because if you leave me, by chance, alive my path will be set...and your friends will be the first to pay for that.”

Harry, typically, paid attention only to the less important declaration...  
“Damn it, Tom, you won't hurt them.” his eyes flashed and it was more order than plea.

...Still, if it was working, Tom had no problem continuing with this vein.  
“You will be dead, darling, it won't matter to you anymore, Granger will be the first to die, but she will not be the least of them.”

Harry blanched, but tried to reason with him.  
“You gain nothing with that, except petty revenge and I won't be here to feel it.”  
Tom’s lips thinned, _Harry was still not getting it_...

“True, golden boy, they are nothing but collateral damage to the long run, but their death will serve very much a purpose.” he smiled humourlessly.  
“Didn't you ever wondered at the disparity between Voldemort and me?”

Harry blinked.  
“I don't see what he had to do with this.” he dismissed forcefully.

_He actually believed it!_

Tom was forsooth impressed with his lover’s talent to stubbornly ignore everything and anything that was unbearable to him, but he really needed to break his bubble this time...  
“He has everything to do with this, us. You never wondered at how we managed to fool him every time? The Horcruxes reduce reason not the intelligence...”

“Tom?” Harry questioned like he couldn't understand the meaning, but Tom could see the inner examination and the start of comprehension.

He pressed...  
“Yet we got away with everything...You truly never wondered at his insistence that you were in love with me and the opposite? At the time it was the further thing from us.”

“It can't be...” Harry kept on insisting but there was already something defeated on his posture -  _time to finish things..._

“Oh yes, my sweet love, it can. His true end game was to torture you for an eternity, never to kill you, what does that telling you? If my only chance to see you again is to become Voldemort I will do it and make certain that you will suffer everything that you have suffered just to be sure that it will be you...” he confessed with complete honesty.

Harry looked at him like he had hit him with Crucio and then Avada just for kicks ...that betrayed... Rage started building, Tom started to believe that he was going to take him on the other leg of his threat. In all honestly he preferred it, killing or getting killed by Harry was better than to be left alone.

But then the fury and the build magical energy dispatched, just like that. Harry dropped his shoulders, looking defeated. The emptiness to his eyes and the bitter tilt at his mouth emphasizing all that...  
“What will have me do? You don’t leave me much of a choice either...”

The dead tone hit him like a fist to the stomach; Tom had no qualms about doing what he must about Harry and periodically forcing an issue with him, but the last thing he wanted (or could bear) was to see him lifeless and defeated. He internally panicked; he couldn't back down in this, the cost was Harry’s life, but this was also unacceptable...

 _Choices, he needed to give Harry choices.  
_ “If you are so set against absorbing the horcrux back then there is only another thing that can be done.” he used intentionally a vague tone trying to get the other’s interest and not show how anxious he was.

Harry sent him a very wary glance, but there was also interest and a tiny glimmer of hope.  
“Like what?”

Tom told himself that he wasn't nervous.  
“You can bond with me.”

Harry’s eyes got enormous with shock and he started coughing.  
“You can’t be serious!” he managed to wheeze out.

Tom forced out a ninety percent sincere smile. _At least Harry looked again alive_.  
“I assure you that I’m serious as a grave.”

Harry blushed then sent him a suspicious glance and he seemed to be forcing himself to calm down.  
“Why? I thought that we were already bonded-what with the horcruxes and all.” he said a bit too casually.

Tom gritted his teeth; the only reason he wasn't leashing out was because he could tell that Harry was nervous, not outright rejecting it.  
“We are in a sense, but a proper bond is going to work much to our advantage, especially yours.”

Harry’s expression didn't change, he remained calm and collected.  
“How so?”

Tom cursed up a storm on the inside...

_Why Harry kept his gryffindorish, jump with both feet, attitude only for battles and heroic actions and directed his Slytherin cunning and cautiousness just against him?_

“I'm working on a ritual that it will let us to keep the horcruxes while allowing the soul pieces accessible to their source.”

Harry still didn’t look quite happy...  
“That will be great, but do we really need to get bonded for that to work?” he asked avoiding his eyes.

Tom’s blood started boiling. _Why the hell he didn't simply say, No, to get over with?_    
Even if he didn't end up cursing Harry, (more doubtful by the second) he was going to need to torture someone soon for his peace of mind- _maybe Diggory_.

He smiled unpleasantly.  
“Yes, the ritual is based on Druidic bonding and that it’s nonnegotiable, but you can always opt to simply absorb the horcrux.” he added with almost unmasked cruelty.

Finally Harry met his eyes and Tom had the chance to really read them. It was quite a storm there, incredulity, apprehension, acute disbelief, nervousness, outright fear and yet, there was also half formed hope and drowned desire. He calmed a bit.  
“I don’t want to trap you into something you don’t really want just to save me.” he admitted sadly.

Tom nearly rolled his eyes, _Harry was unbelievable sometimes. What on earth was he expecting, some sweet nonsense?  
_ “Tell me something sweetheart, how many times have you seen me doing something I don’t want and even less work for it?”

The battle in his eyes grew in intensity; Harry blinked, occluded and tried the rationality card once again.

“None at all, I admit, there is always something to be gained. But what do you gain with this?” he started calmly...“Damn it Tom, we are nineteen, hardly ready to make such decisions; you will probably chance your mind soon and then what?”... yet it gained momentum... “Never mind it’s illegal in the first place and if the information gets out, any chance for a career is out of the window.” ...in the end he was shouting...

Ironically it made Tom smile almost genuinely. It was beyond irritating, yet this was the Harry he knew and cared deeply for (loved)...  
“Why should I change my mind? It’s hardly any different from our fixed plans anyway; we have already agreed to share a flat and our time, the only thing that changed is sexual intimacy and I believe we both liked that part. Also who’s said anything about the information getting out?”

Harry gaped at him.  
“That was the plan of the previous year; I thought you’d made new ones.”

Tom shrugged elegantly.  
“Hardly, why change perfection? Even if I had married Hermione that part of the plans wouldn't have changed.”

Harry gaped some more, it looked ridiculous and rather unattractive.  
“Are you for real?”

This time Tom rolled his eyes.  
“Please, when did I care for other people’s opinions?”

Harry sent him a disbelieving glare.  
“Yeah, only yours,” his lips twitched.  
“This is not an incentive to marry you, you know.” he said a bit coyly.

Tom relaxed. _It was getting there_...  
However _,_ Harry had thawed a bit yet was still doubtful, not merely incredulous, he could see that _..._

 _Maybe if he sweetened the deal a bit more?  
_ “I'm not entire unreasonable, your wants and needs matter to me,” a carefully extended breath and he dropped his bomb.  
“I want you to write a thesis in defence, the lighter you can...”

It was indeed a bomb, even stronger than the previous ones, if at all possible. Harry looked like a deer in highlights.  
“T-Tom, I-I can’t, this is your dream, too.” he managed.

Tom allowed a truly pleased smile for the slip.

“I know you Harry, you were almost eager to die, not only out of fear of hurting others, but because you didn't have anything truly engrossing you to live. Simply being with me it’s not, can’t, be enough; life is far more than friendship or romance. You didn't believe me when I told you that I will leave everything to be with you and you were right, given enough time I would have resented you to the point of genuine hate.”

Harry looked at him more than fondly.  
“This means a lot, Tom, truly. But my point stands, this is your dream, I won’t have you resenting me for this...” he smiled tenderly.

Tom was almost uncomfortable.  
Logically this seemed the perfect moment to attain victory, but he sensed that it was too soon, so he continued on the present matter.

“Yes, it was, but never to the same extends as to you. I'm far more interested to the Ministry. Frankly, everything that could be achieved by the position I will get it though you.” a breath.  
“Also, if you become the Headmaster – and with Dumbledore gone, you will, in less than fifteen years – it will be imminently useful. Even, at the worst case, you get rejected and became Auror... Head-Auror it’s a very good and useful political position... You will be much better than dearest Amelia...” he couldn't resist some snark.

Harry looked honestly impressed and Tom felt his chest expanding with pride, _it wasn't an easy thing to achieve._

“This was very considerate and well thought,” he kissed him not with carnal passion but such affection that Tom felt quite overwhelmed, almost shy. “But would you mind terribly to leave Amelia out of it, you didn’t mind her a year ago, it’s a bit hypocritical to do so now, just because we are together.” a hint of steel.

Tom blamed his next admission to Harry; _it was beyond irritating to mention an ex after such a kiss...  
_ “Didn’t mind her? Not even close... I couldn't stand the bint and certainly made her pay, both for daring to raise her eyes on you and even more so for hurting you like that.”

Harry certainly didn’t expect that... but if he really detested it, or not, it was another matter...  
“Gods, Tom, what did you do?” his voice was weary for sure, but except the disapproval he could read and something else...

Tom didn't need more persuasion, he shared gleefully the details.

“As she was so fast on leaving you I thought it appropriate that every time she would get close to an intimate moment her lover will suddenly get revolted and leave her at once. It’s set for both males and females, as there was a hint of rumour at your time.” he smiled, pleased with himself.   
“It must have already paid off, her relationship with Michael Abbot, the one after you, didn’t last that long and she hadn’t dared to get in another one yet.”

Harry’s reaction was even more pleasing...  
“Tom, that was...” he seemed to search for the right word, “atrocious.” his voice steeled.  
“You will drop the curse tomorrow,” he squeezed his hands insistently; “she's already paid.”

That was what he was saying with his lips but Tom could read and the rest as well... there was the same heady mix of arousal and abandonment he had seen at his face the night of Walburga’s punishment. _Irresistible!  
_ _He was certainly regretting not killing the Dursleys, if that was the customary reaction for defending him..._

He licked his lips. _Harry was his_.  
“What will you give me if I do?”

Harry’s lips firmed and he took a step back, dropping his hands.  
Just like that all that progress he had made, his assured victory, the perfect moment after that perfect kiss, was out of the window.  
He was tempted to leash out, but he was damned if Harry’s will proved stronger than his in this...

... _He just needed something more_...

Some careful calculations and he had the perfect idea... _it was going to be a bit troublesome but nothing he couldn’t handle_... Harry was going to be happy. _More so,_ due to recent developments, he had a feeling he would be dissolving the sole reason of Harry’s attraction to females...

_Time to play..._

“Very well, I know you want children, as soon as we are in a decent position in our respected occupation Granger will surrogate for us and the other will blood adopt the child as per pureblood custom.”

Harry’s second coughing fit was even less amusing than the first one.  
“Are you out of your bloody mind?” he shouted at the top of his lugs.

Tom didn't appreciate at all to be talked like that.  
“What the hell is your problem? I know you want this, I have suffered more than my share of your drunken confessions to how much you want kids.”

Harry blasted him with his eyes.  
“Maybe so, but I never wanted, or have any intention whatsoever, to become part of a ménage-a-trois.”

It was Tom’s turn for a coughing fit...  
“How on earth you came up with that? You already know my opinion for the woman... I never had any intention of touching her, my thoughts run towards artificial insemination as it’s used on your time.”

Harry snorted.  
“Pull the other one Tom. Maybe you were honest, maybe your long range plans were the same from the start, but don’t you dare blowing smoke to my face. No matter what you say, the fact that of all my friends she was the only one you took with speaks by itself.”

Tom didn’t believe his ears _... Really, he more than enjoined Harry’s jealously but this was getting preposterous...  
_ “And you based your fit of jealously in this?” he asked archly.  
“She was just at the right place the right moment; I would have taken any of your friends, even that blasted Lovegood.”

Harry looked at him strangely for his vehemence.  
“Why are you so set against Luna? You told me once that she was the one that helped you when you were stunned and even told you how to save me.”

Tom didn't really want to answer that question, but it could work to his favour...

“You’re right, I owe her a lot, but you must understand my position, she was the only one, except me, that really gets you and she was pretty. You were vulnerable and spend all the previous year chasing skirts to hide under,” Tom disliked vulgarities and that had slipped using them again...

 _...H_ _e hated how they betrayed his weakness even more_...  
“How long do you think it would had taken you to seek her comfort? If I had taken Luna instead of Hermione I’m more than certain that today she would have been wearing your intention ring to her finger.”

Harry examined his face critically with burning cheeks, but it wasn't embarrassment. Tom could read bewildered but pure pleasure,  
 _they were in the same boat in this_... but then Harry shook his head like wakening from a pleasant dream and smiled bitterly.  
“Nice distraction, but nothing more than that, the truth now please?”

Tom tightened his fists until he calmed, Harry was so set on his fears that no assurance was going to work, _what he needed was reality_. _He more than loathed remembering that night...  
_ “As I told you Granger was there at the right moment...”

_...But remember he must..._

* * *

~*~

* * *

 _{Harry had collapsed in his arms, dead, ...and for all that he knew that he could, and would, bring him back at that moment he was more feral beast than sane person. He couldn’t care less for Dumbledore’s dead body only Harry mattered..._ _He was concentrating hard in finding the strength to manage getting them out of there...it wouldn't do to get caught like this...when he heard the softest of steps..._

_Granger was standing just inside the room with only a nightgown; (obviously had collapsed too when she sent Lestrange back) and looking with indescribable shock and horror at Harry. A glance at his face and she let out an almost noiseless gasp, taking a step back..._

_Tom would have killed her, at once, but it would have taken the last vestiges of his strength. He levelled his wand at her but both of them knew it was an empty threat._   
_“Don’t make a sound and check Dumbledore’s wand.” he ordered crisply._

_She did, the action snapping her out of shock and her grief was freed in a quiet but abundant river of tears._   
_“Avada Kedavra, the bastard killed Harry.” the hiss was so quiet and angry that it could have been his own._

_Tom saw no need to correct her-it was true after all. But he needed to deal with her._   
_“If you swear on your magic to not set the alarm until morning, I swear to you in turn to bring him back.” he offered, if that failed he was going to stun her and hope that it wouldn't send him back to unconsciousness._

_Her eyes widened in recognition, but the dark magic wasn’t a problem for Hermione Jean Granger at the moment._   
_“You have it, on my magic. But what are you going to do if you get caught by someone? I’ll help, let me take him.”_

_Tom didn't let her to point her wand with a ‘mobilicorpus’, he snarled his denial, holding Harry’s body even closer to himself, he knew that it was irrational, but he was incapable of anything else at the moment._

_Hermione raised a placating hand._   
_“Alright, but I will help on the way.” he shook his head to counter it but she insisted._   
_“What are you going to do, let him down to fight? I’m coming with you.”_

_It was more exhausting to disagree with her at the moment, he concurred. Tom let her lead the way to keep an eye on her and she proved more than useful, stunning the caretaker and a couple prefects._

_At the middle to the way his meagre strength started to leave him but Tom clenched his teeth and managed to reach the R room, but he was barely past the door when said strength left him completely and collapsed in near coma with Harry still in his arms. He awoke fifteen hours later; Hermione not only hadn't left but had preserved Harry’s body and called his followers with a Patronus, a couple hours later they were in his time with Hermione in tow.}_

* * *

~*~

* * *

Harry lived all that nightmarish experience with him due to their bond and was left close to tears, holding him without saying a word. After a long while he dared to speak:  
“I'm so sorry.”

Tom glared mildly.  
“Oh cut it, it’s anything but your fault.” he said trying and failing to sound snappish.

Harry let out a shaky laugh suspiciously close to a sob.  
“Thank you!”

Tom told himself he wasn’t blushing and patted Harry on the back.  
“You’re safe now.” pretending that he was the consoling one and thankful to his lover for allowing the pretence.

...Until he changed the topic.  
“We owe Hermione big.”

Tom privately agreed but he could see where Harry was taking it.  
“I let her live and brought her here, isn't that enough?”

Harry’s smile was almost carefree for once.  
“Nope!”

Tom enjoyed that smile pretending to grouch.  
“I left her and Prince unscratched, I'm not blind you know, isn't that enough?”

Harry pouted.  
“Hypocrite, they hadn't done anything and you know it.”

Tom raised a finger.  
“Yet!”

Harry took his stubborn expression, _much better to defend Granger than anything stupid!  
_ “I want you to promise me that you will let her live unscratched and without any kind of mark perpetually...”

Tom wanted to point out that it was too much, but at second thought- _it really_ _wasn't_. But before he could accept the deal Harry continued:  
“I won’t take back the horcrux but I will stay with you anyway, no terms.”

Tom considered furiously, _was it worth it as an offer?  
_ A look to Harry confirmed that it was a legitimate and honest one. _-He could always try to change his mind later_... _but what about the next crisis? He couldn't afford it_... _But if he kept on pressuring they will be again at square one_...

... _Maybe the occasion needed just a different hook..?  
_ “To be completely honest, if I gained a bit of contact with my horcrux, it wouldn't be amiss, I had some disconnecting moments too.” he hated confessing it, but it was a near guarantee to work...

Harry was instantly worried, so much so that he forgotten to be wary.  
“What? Why the hell you didn't told me so?”

 _Score!_  
Tom smiled, just a little.  
“It wasn't anywhere near to your own symptoms but it exaggerated things and messed me enough that I needed time alone.”

Harry’s brow puckered in concentration and worry and he looked away.  
“Give me your notes to the ritual.”

Tom didn't allow himself to smile smugly. _-It wasn't in the bag, yet_. Sure, it was a concession and a heavy one at that, but Harry hadn’t accepted, yet and he had an air of preoccupation, _something was amiss_.

Still, if Harry got involved it their ritual it was going to do him some good and strengthen the ritual in the process. He willed a copy of the notes and presented them with a flourish.  
“Have a look; it’s everything I have to the matter.”

Harry sent him a grateful smile and, after reconjuring their couch, started reading with complete concentration. Tom reminded himself that it was undignified to pace as he waited for the verdict. Fortunately the wait didn't last for long...  
“This is not a Druidic bonding.” it wasn't exactly an accusation.

Tom relaxed a bit, _it wasn't a direct no_ , and couldn't help being pleased, as even two years back, Harry wouldn't have recognised a Druidic ritual.  
“Indeed no, Druidic ceremonies create just the barest of soul bonds. The Druidic part is merely the foundation, using the timing and the form of sacrifice. I will base the spellwork elsewhere.”

He could feel the tension building at once, Harry was burning him with the intensity of his gaze. Tom returned the favour making his lover lightly blush but, as always, hold on.  
“What kind of sacrifice?” his voice attempted for suspicious but it didn’t come out exactly that way.

Tom could tell that the question was just for confirmation and it brought him a smile, this time of pure male pride.  
“The consummation, of course,” Harry blushed again and even more so as he elaborated, “Both virginities.”

Harry made his best impression of a fish...  
“You will let me?” his voice held awe...  
“I thought you were disgusted with the idea.” ...that he was too fast to drop...

Tom rather liked to see him so flustered.  
“Disgusted is too strong a word.” he examined his nails. “There is nothing so revolting a few charms won’t fix, not that I plan to repeat it other than this once.” he said looking completely disinterested and a bit cross, but truthfully looking forward even to that...

Harry took offence immediately.  
“No need to force yourself on my behalf.” his voice as icy as it was awed before.

Tom sighed inwardly.  
... _What Harry expected of him,_ _to admit of wanting things of that nature..? He shouldn't...while that first awed reaction proved that he would gain immeasurable power over Harry with such intimacy, he was never going to admit something like that, not even after fifty years._

“True, I'm not exactly keen on the idea, but for the ritual to work as intends, or even at all, it will need things to be completely equal, why do you think I only stopped you instead of turning the tables as you obviously wanted...”

Harry’s eyes flashed.  
“Assuming we proceed with the ritual, don’t expect a repeating either.” he pointed with clear asperity. Then smiled   
“But how on earth do you know for sure that I didn't lose said virginity with Amelia?” he asked as a supposed afterthought.

 _They were going to see about that...  
_ “Acceptable.” was his own tense reply but inside he was fuming.

_...Again with Amelia, maybe tomorrow he should threw her off the train, it probably wasn't going to cost him...  
Complains or no, Harry wouldn’t care that much..._

“...As for dearest Amelia and her failure to entice you, quite easy, your body language didn't change, as in at all.” Harry tried to oppose that opinion and he continued, proving his point.  
“You bought it immediately on me, even without recalling the dream at once, and I only imitated Black. Even without that, the way she broken up with you was quite telling, she obviously grew tired waiting for you to take the next step.”

Harry got even snappiest.  
“You know perfectly well why she broken up with me and it had nothing to do with that, she was very explicit on her wish to keep my hands to myself.”

Tom sighed tiredly.

 _O_ _nly Harry could be so naive...and yet so faithful...that he could cure said naiveté without risking anything_.  
“Please, girls may not be so brazed, as in your time, but they still have needs. She just required keeping her image as a ‘good girl’ intact, if you had insisted on it she would have gratefully caved.”

Harry gaped and then smirked.  
“This is extremely misogynistic, yet it seems to have some merit, how can you be completely sure I won’t use such sage advice?” he teased.

Tom smirked back.  
 _He trusted Harry, above and including anything, except his own life, not to mention adore their power games. That didn't mean his partner would find pleasant the consequences of flirting with another at a try to get a rise out of him, better to be up front..._

“My dearest Harry, I know, because if you dare to use it, it will automatically mean that you don’t care at all for your chosen interest. I won’t lift a finger to you for said indiscretion but I doubt that it would be left anything from said interest for the family to bury.” he said this in his most pleasant voice.

Harry shuddered but it didn't seem to be completely out of fear or revulsion. Tom took note of it _-it looked like his lover had more than a weakness for his possessiveness, he got off on it..._

“Right...” Harry took another look at the notes and returned to the main problem.  
“There is precious little spellwork here and I don’t recognise the origin, but I feel like I should.”

Tom was beyond pleased.  
“Indeed you should, as this is very much the opposite of a horcrux in effect, I'm going to take elements from that ritual and reverse it.”

Harry froze and took a full mental turn.  
“Are you out of your bloody mind? I was ready to consent to the bonding, but this is way out of hand.”

 _Harry was driving him completely crazy, what horcruxes and such nonsense, his partner was going to rob him from sanity far sooner than black magic ever would...  
_ “And why pray tell is that?” he asked in his most soft and dangerous voice, but for once Harry didn’t take head of it...

...He was too busy gesturing wide and trying to put across his full disagreement, all the while keeping his voice civil and calm.  
“I remember how it was when you created the horcrux... for invoking that kind of powers, now, even reversed, the only way it would work in that regard is if it literally welded our souls together.”

 _Really Tom had started to regret at how much he had furthered Harry’s education..._  
“So, what is your problem? It’s the only relatively safe way for us to keep the horcruxes and regain a full soul.”

Huge green eyes met his wide with horror; Tom could have done much better without it.  
“Safe?” his voice got a whole octave higher, “How the hell is getting our souls welded together can be count as safe? Even if the ritual succeeds it could mix up irrevocably our brains to say the most obvious risk.”

Tom sighed and started explaining.  
“The risk it’s not as high as you believe, why do you think I decided to use Beltane as both channelling and power surge?”

Harry didn't look that much reassured.  
“Then the risk moves more towards death than madness.”

Tom didn't understand the depth of the negative reaction.  
“Yes, but it gets at a more manageable level. I trust us, our commitment, in this.”

Harry exploded.  
“How can you say that? ...Failure is suicide.”

Tom smirked.  
“I thought you were always ready for such plans.”

Harry winced.  
“For me, not you. Honestly, Tom, you didn't even see me in that light before the horcrux, more like family, it’s too much...”

Instant fury took him, but dark humour prevailed.  
“A husband is considered family too.” he pointed out.

Harry didn't crack even the smallest of smiles.  
“Please Tom, I need to know.”

Harry wasn't easy to beg too... he sighed.  
“I may not have seen you immediately as a sexual being, but I knew from the start that if I ever got to that route it wouldn't be with anyone but you and yes even if we were related by blood it wouldn't make a difference.”

Harry gaped like a fish again and then glared.  
“You saw your uncle; your forefathers had probably similar thoughts as this.” he snapped as by instinct and then shook his head to clear it.  
“No, this is crazy; it’s going too far Tom...”

Tom had gotten more than tired with the bloody game and ignored the dig on his maternal family.  
“Suit yourself but don’t dare putting the weigh on me, not when you hadn't even looked at me with desire before the Walburga incident...  
Biology doesn't lie, sweetheart.”

Harry gulped.  
“This is not true.”

Tom met Harry’s eyes with everything he had.  
“Then prove me wrong, bond with me.”

For the first time is his life Harry couldn't keep his gaze.  
“I can’t. It’s not worth your life.”

Suddenly Tom knew that Harry never had the intention of truly accepting the bonding...and he shouldn’t had lied to himself into believing it ... _(_ _bad, bad, habit to take from his personal headache._ _)_

He was never more keenly aware at how much of a disadvantage were his emotions, but no matter how much he longed to make him pay, _deeply_ , his hand was halted yet again, due to a smudge of understanding. All the fears Harry had spouted right now were the exact mirror of his own _...  
_ _He was going to give him one final chance and then they were truly over..._

“As you wish, in that case you can either fight me to death right now, or wait until you take the horcrux back and then never grace me with your presence on pain of death, your choice.”

Harry wasn’t that keen to raise his wand against him, he was relieved to see that. In fact he didn’t look much better than when Tom threatened his friends but he didn’t have a problem to meet his eyes any more.  
“None of these appealing to me, or are much of a choice.” he admitted.

Tom was done with showing weakness.  
“I don’t care, I’m done with playing. This is the third and the last chance I’m giving you to leave; you won’t get another, so think clearly and decide now.”

* * *

~*~

* * *

_ **Harry’s pov** _

Harry’s whole world halted for a moment and he lowered his eyes, again. He knew that tone, but what Tom was giving him could hardly be called a choice, the variables were impossible. His first instinct was to leave, but Tom was dead serious, the only way to leave now was over his dead body and he couldn’t stand it even as a thought.

The other option, to let him kill him, was unthinkable as well: on one part, he would personally be over the dilemma, permanently. But on the other, Tom’s threat on this was as good as gold: he would be responsible for sicking Voldemort on his friends and the future generations... he very carefully didn’t consider about his future self...

The third alternative was just as unpalatable.

To risk brain damage on Tom just to get a measure of freedom, though he will never be free – not completely – even if they never set eyes on each other ever again, due to Tom’s horcrux. But then again his friend looked so frustrated that it wasn’t past him to fire an Avada at him and destroy a part of his own soul to get it over. Harry felt filthy for even thinking about it.

 _No freedom, particularly his, was worth to cause something like that..._  
Especially to a mind such as Tom’s, that brilliant...  
Such fate was worse than death...

Naturally all that excruciating mess should have made the fourth option, bonding with Tom, at the very least palatable, but somehow it wasn’t the case. To survive the rite, as it was shaped, they needed to give everything they had, total commitment of body, mind, heart, and soul, to that extreme. It was, in a way, as monstrous as the horcrux ritual.

Tom’s accusation was right on target: his feelings were possible only due to the horcrux. But it wasn’t in the way his friend thought; the feelings, friendship, love and obsession were always there, it was just as likely they would have ended lovers in his own time too, however if he hadn’t ended in the past, _again_ , he very much doubted that he would had allowed himself to let them reach such extends of dependence.

It sickened him...

Due to that, he didn’t trust his self to give himself completely to the other, the ritual would fail and he would have killed Tom just as surely as if firing an Avada. It wouldn’t be even a shared fault as his lover’s feelings, while complicated and sharpened in the same way as his own, not to mention insanely mixed up, were far more focused. While he had spent the previous year floundering and trying to acclimate to everything he had lost, for good, Tom had the comfort of his own time to short out exactly what he wanted and how to get it.

That added more to the claustrophobic feeling, Tom’s ideas were more than well thought _–_ _brilliant truly_ _–_ tailored for him and showed his care...  
... _Love damn it, name it properly_...

But obsessive love and need aside, Harry needed time to breathe and decide on his own to what he wanted and how far he could go...  
... _Time! That was what he needed most of all..._

“Tom, I can’t, this is too big a decision to take at once. Can’t we postpone it a bit? I won’t leave, I swear I won’t, but I need time.” he finally met again his lover’s eyes, offering everything he could.

If at all possible Tom’s face turned even more stone like.  
“There is no time, you know your choices.” a breath,  
“I have seen your oaths.” Harry flinched.

The last bit was totally unfair and he honestly hated Tom for forcing him to choose, but he understood too. He had driven the other past madness with his repeated denials, (but never final ones) and yet his _(–what word to use, friend-brother, beloved, destroyer, or saviour?–)_ Everything continued to offer him more and more, when every shred of patience should have been broken way back and things to have already resorted in violence.

Even more telling was the fact that even among those deplorable terms there was a solution that guaranteed Harry’s safety even at the cost of Tom’s own health.  
This wasn't the normal Tom Riddle: ‘I would be lying if I said that anyone could ever matter more, or even equally, to myself.’

Harry understood even his lover’s changed mind towards forcing him to leave if he absorbed the horcrux back, Tom had offered him everything he was and it looked like he had been rejected, it would have been easier to face the whole school naked than feeling that exposed. There was no way in hell to continue in the same way as friends, or even lovers, after something like that, if he was honest it was doubtful that they could have returned back to friends even merely after their lips touched for the first time...

... _Yet the offer to leave free was still there_...

“In that case you already know the answer.” he replied just as harshly.  
“Damn it, Tom, we are going to die because of this.”

Something softened fractionally at Tom’s eyes, if not face.  
“No we will not.” his voice was back to melodious, hypnotic, coaxing, but it was also honest.  
“Do you know why, darling?”

Harry gulped, trying to force down the knot in his dry throat.  
“No.” he believed that he was honest.

Tom minimised, to almost nothing, the distance between them.  
“Because, before this,” he stroked softly Harry’s lower lip with a single finger and yet a sensuality that made him ache.  
“There was this:” he grabbed his hand, palm to palm, intertwining their fingers and digging his nails, Harry couldn't help but return the gesture.

“The commitment is already there, no matter its form. It’s the same reason that I followed you to your time and why when you woke up alive you didn't grab Hermione to return back, if you had tried immediately there was a chance that it could have worked. We are going to survive the bonding because, no matter what is going on between us, the connection is going to stay, no matter how far the physical distance between us.”

Harry started trembling; this is what he was afraid of most of all, even above losing his independence. To survive the bonding, with their feelings reverting to like it was before, or even, in time, fading completely. To spend countless empty centuries with his only constant link to someone that had become a stranger and no way out...

 _Nothing lasted forever, especially good things.  
_ But then again, even though his rational mind was screaming in fright, there was and another part of himself seeing things differently.

 _Alright_ , there wasn't a guarantee that they were going to live past April. Nor for how long their bond was going to last, in it’s whatever form. _Decision taken_ , he was going to give everything he was and take everything he could in return, every drop of honey, every moment of happiness with Tom and every adventure, _for as long it lasted_.

Harry was going to live his life in the fullest... _he wasn't a coward_.  
“I love you.” he blurted out.

Time stopped.

Tom’s whole face lighted in pure delight, but he only raised an eyebrow.  
“I know.”

Harry didn’t need a verbal confirmation anyway. His hand slipped on Tom’s nape compelling their lips to meet. It wasn’t surrender but a claiming of his own, he repeated those words soundlessly again and again against his lover’s lips and felt the response as the barest whisper in their link, it was beyond enough. But as things gotten heated again and he tried to steer Tom towards their couch there was resistance.

“What?” he asked and much to his shame it sounded irritable.

Tom smirked but it looked more like a smile.  
“What, do you think that I will leave you to distract me again? We are not going anywhere until you give me properly you word.”

Harry was more amused than irritated, but tried to hide it.  
“What, my oaths are back to being good enough for you?” yet it wasn’t completely without bite.

Their eyes clashed in a short but fierce battle and then they were clutching each other in helpless laughter born out of sheer relief.  
“Harry?” it wasn’t an order, neither imploring, just a request. Harry preferred those most of all.

“Alright. I, Harry James Evans Potter, accept your troth, Tom Marvolo Riddle, I will bond with you at the fires of Beltane and spend with you as long as we have. Good enough?”

Tom tried looking cross but he could feel the satisfaction leaking from his pores.  
“Immensely.” he took his left hand again and Harry could feel Tom’ magic, not the room’s, at work.

He raised their joined hands to see, there was a band of white and rose gold, the heavy stuff, not a promise ring.  
“What, not a family promise ring?” he teased to hide how touched he was with the gesture.

Tom rolled his eyes.  
“I prefer this.” there was no mistaking the heavy possessive tone, more personal than anything else.

Harry blushed and tried to cover how much he liked it.  
“You just can’t risk that I will become the master of death.”

Something passed from Tom’s eyes but it was too fast for Harry to catch the remembrance. He clucked darkly.  
“I’m not completely against the idea, but I won’t leave you to use it as a means to get away from the bonding.”

As crazy as it sounded Tom meant it to some extend. Harry was too embarrassed and happy to answer with words. He concentrated on his own magic and a moment later a mirror of the ring was resting at Tom’s slim ring finger.  
“There.” he couldn’t hide his satisfaction.

Tom examined the ring and the heat returned to his eyes, he tugged him towards their couch.  
“Remind me to beat you in the morning.”

For all that he knew it wasn’t an idle threat Harry laughed.  
“What, now that you got me for sure you plan to take your blood back?”

Tom smirked.  
“Exactly that, sweetheart.” the tugging became dragging to the last steps.

Harry resisted, just because he could.  
“Don’t expect me just to accept it.” a challenge on multiple levels.

“On the contrary, darling,” biting claiming kisses between each word.  
“I’m counting on that.”

But as they reached their couch the atmosphere changed again. There was a deliberateness that simply wasn't present the previous two times, Tom made no attempt at banishing their clothes and he looked challengingly at Harry when he tried to do it himself. He took his time undressing Harry piece by piece and he followed suit both wary and intrigued. The game became apparent soon enough; Tom was drawing things out, the further he could, to punish him for making him wait, but he probably tortured himself just as much. But as he stood behind him, kissing his nape, and descending very slowly to his nude back, Harry felt a familiar tingle of magic. He stiffened and called his own.

“Let me,” a honeyed caress to his ear that made him tingle.  
“It will stay only until the bonding and I won’t take advantage of it...much.”

Harry found himself agreeing and it wasn’t due to the bone melting sensuality, or the humour. The link was open and he could sense that Tom didn’t want to do that only out of possessiveness, but because he needed to be able to pinpoint where he was and to stop him if he lost control again.

The moment the “Yes,” left his lips Tom repeated the progress but when he reached between his shoulder blades, instead of a kiss, bestowed a sharp bite. Somehow the magic was different than the first time and Harry melted against Tom.

Things continued in that snail pace; his first estimation was right too and he even got close to beg Tom to finish things, not that he did him the favour. _Though at mind to mind it was difficult to say who did a favour to whom_...  
But when everything was over Tom collapsed in his arms and fell asleep immediately, without a goodnight.

Harry could tell that this wasn’t just a post sex male exhaustion but something far more ominous. A careful check, which had neglected before, showed several Parsel glamours and the dark shadows under Tom’s eyes were considerable...  
 _What kind of hours did he keep?_  
He didn't know if now that he had his agreement had planned to calm down but even if Tom intended to continue like that, until he cracked the Stone, he had another thing coming...

Harry forced himself to stay awake as he felt the need to guard Tom’s sleep. He took a moment to lament a bit the loss of some of their trust. Tom may rest like a child at his chest now, but he wasn’t at ease to turn his back anymore...  
But the regret was brief; in time Harry know he was going to get it back...

No matter what it may happen and it could be a lot, like Tom calming a bit and waiting some time until the bonding, or even not managing to crack the Stone, which would freeze things very effectively, Harry know that his place was there.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS Edited at 10/10/2014  
> Please review to inspire me for more...


	9. Adjustments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Real life is back...

 

**Chapter Nine:Adjustments**

_ **Tom’s pov** _

Tom Marvolo Riddle had thought he already hated weakness like the plague, but he had never really taken himself into the equation before and so it was summarily proved he had no idea. Tom’s awakening wasn't exactly pleasant. _Alright_ , to wake up under Harry’s kisses wasn't much of a hardship and if really pressured he would admit that he could get used to be waken up in that way on semi-regular basis, but it wasn't what annoyed him...

_...It was one thing to indulge Harry’s needs and even enjoy himself on the progress but quite another to lose control like this..._

The combined effect of his first full, restful, sleep within a month and the morning activities had left him euphoric, lazy to a fault, and disgustingly weak. When he had finally shaken off the lassitude, and had the presence of mind to check the time, a tempus had shown that it was barely half an hour before the train’s department, so they were already awfully behind schedule and had nowhere to near enough time for proper preparations...

_...He didn't even have the chance to punish Harry as he promised, or just the simple satisfaction of shouting at him properly..._

Harry’s cheer didn't _really_ help matters...  
“I like the more fluffy style to your hair.” he commented, eyeing him unabashedly.

“Hurry up.” he snarled finishing with the shaving charm.

Harry’s good mood wasn't affected by his irritation and he didn't seem to have a problem with any of this as, even at ordinary circumstances, hastening was the norm for him, he merely winked at Tom and in a moment later was ready for the day, even dried and dressed.  
“See, ready.”

But Tom, although equally ready, hated the situation with a passion. Ever since he set foot on Hogwarts the morning rituals had been a form of fortification for him and now he didn’t even have adequate time for a proper morning shower. 

 _Really, he adored magic, but even the thought of some things left almost entirely to magic went beyond disgusting._  
There were no words to express the indignity.  
“Come on then.”

He grabbed Harry’s hand and hastened to the corridors, all but running to his room, Stone tucked aside he continued to the same pace.  
Harry kept up with ease but tried to calm him.  
“Hey, Tom, relax, we are going to be on time.”

He spared his partner a glance.  
“There was never a doubt to this, but it shouldn't have become a subject at all.”

He could feel Harry’s tension at his censure.  
“I don’t remember to been alone in this.” Harry’s voice was quiet but it didn't lack some bite.

Tom relaxed, things were back to normal.  
“You weren't.” he admitted.

Harry was surprised with this and Tom enjoyed it immensely but his partner regrouped immediately.  
“Why are we hurrying anyway, wouldn't it be better if we stayed here anyway?”

 _That was new.  
_ “Maybe, but it’s too late now, our trunks are already on the train.”

Harry looked at him incredulously.  
“So? We could get them, seven hours later, at King’s Cross without problems there.”

Tom sent him a piercing glance... _Tempting, too tempting, but no...  
_ “We could also send an engagement announcement to the Daily Prophet.”

Harry blushed scarlet.  
“Oups, I didn't think it will look that bad.”

Tom’s face softened a little bit.  
“Trust me it will, I doubt that anyone, except our people, got exactly what happened yesterday, but some people undoubtedly noticed. If we’d just show up at the station it will spread much further than school wide.

A momentary disappointment flashed at Harry’s eyes and was gone.

“Alright,” he took a thoughtful expression, “we could go to the Leaky as usual, but we’ll need a laboratory to work on the Stone so it’s either Zevi’s or Brax’s, don’t even think about Grimmauld Place.” his look made plain the consequences of such an action but his voice couldn’t completely hide his disappointment.

Tom took notice of it but, for now, pretended he didn’t.  
“Perish the thought,” his shudder wasn’t completely theatrical. “I’m no more eager than you for a vacation with dearest Walburga, so Malfoys it is.”

Harry wrinkled his nose.  
“Why not Zevi’s? I’m not that fond of Brax’s relatives and I doubt they will appreciate us crashing at them without notice.”

Tom shrugged.  
“It will have to do; Eileen’s fifteenth birthday is not that far away and Madeleine will no doubt approach you with an offer for her hand and a fat dowry. I’m not in a hurry to kill them.” he so wasn’t joking.

Harry stopped in his tracks.  
“You’re not serious?”

Tom was almost amused, _he really had no idea_.  
“Eminently.” Harry’s disbelief wasn’t abating and he was forced to continue.

“They have an ugly, but quietly independent, daughter, what do you think they should do with her? It is known that you want a family and respect independent women; also you are almost too genuine.” the last part was fond, for all his inner rage.   
“Your close friendship with Zevi and the great _inspiration_ to send Potters their way will give them all the opening they’ll need to offer the match and if they take wind that they are your blood family it will be almost impossible to make them retreat it at civil terms.” his voice betrayed his displeasure more than he wanted to.

Nothing of it seemed to make an impression on Harry, he almost laughed to his face.

“You must be kidding me! I couldn’t trust the Potters at a better place and I know they will agree to help us, but to offer Eileen? No way! She is not that bad that she couldn’t find a proper husband while I have but barely a galleon to my name. No parent would want me for his daughter and even if they didn’t know about us, Zevi will clue then and it will be over...” he shook his head.

Tom’s blood was pounding hard and was at the start of a rage, not so because of the tone, or the dismissal, but because he caught a hint of regret which implied that he really wasn’t so set against the match.

“One: with your level of power even if you were a mudborn she should be considered lucky, even if she was a beauty, and two: her crush to you also helps. As for our relationship, it hardly matters to that circle if we are discreet.” he tested.

“Crush? Discreet?” Harry was so sceptical that it sounded almost stupid and then exploded.  
“Fuck the hypocritical pureblood attitudes and fuck you too, Tom, for agreeing with that shite.” he snarled. 

Harry, usually, could read past his stylized tone, right to the true meaning, quite easily, even without their bond, but he was so incensed that he remained oblivious, his eyes were dead serious.  
“This,” he flashed the ring, “Us, means something to me. Even if you asked it of me, for covering, I wouldn’t do it, nor I will ever allow you to do it.”

Something unclenched inside Tom, but he wasn’t going to admit it, Harry had enough power over him as it was.  
“Language.” he chided mildly, though at another time he would have literally taken his partner’s head for said language and tone.  
“...Now, as you reminded me...” he glamoured the rings with a Parsel spell.

Harry’s eyes just dimmed instead of flashing again in rage and he turned to leave.  
“Damn you Tom.” was thrown simply. It didn’t hold any emotion, only coldness.

_Damn, damn, those feelings to hell!_

Tom didn’t even think about it, with two steps he had caught up with Harry and grabbed him by the arm and neck _(_ _none too gently to the arm and quite happy with the bruise he was leaving, he was going to kill him someday, no question about it!_ _)_ and held him to his body.  
“...Not so soon...I wasn’t, I’m never going to ask you that...I didn’t choose the bonding only because it’s convenient but because I want to. You’re mine Harry.”

Harry froze as he was caught; knowing too well that the hand to his neck could turn to a threat in a second, no matter how gentle the current hold. He didn’t offer a single word of acceptance to his statements but relaxed against him.  
“What about you?” the question, when it came, held both vulnerability and defiance.

Tom thought it for a moment. The easy answer would have been ‘The same.’ a lie, yet his deeper preference. That would have left the inevitable fight with Harry for another, convenient, time but he was somehow reluctant, Harry could handle all of him, no dilutions involved. He chose the truth.

“I will never take another to bed, as I already promised, nor give a woman my name, even as cover. But I have no intention whatsoever to set our ambitions back. So, other than that, I will do whatever is needed until the day that we’ll have enough power to our hands that it won’t be necessary anymore.”

Harry tensed, his body stiffening as a board, and he freed himself almost violently. He turned to face him with distress, rage and betrayal radiating from his whole being, his eyes burning like twin green blazes. Tom met them head on: _he was giving the best he could under the circumstances and unless he was very, very, careful even this would be too much._

_Doing it so Harry wouldn’t have to...not that he could handle a reverse..._

Harry’s lips tightened until they became a thin white line but he understood the silent message.  
“We will talk about this later.” he turned and left.

Tom found that he would have preferred a fight than this...  
The matter was far from over and knowing Harry he was going to give him the third degree for his every action from now on, but he would rather have Harry’s fire that this quiet resignation.

Harry noticed immediately that he wasn’t following and he slowed to check. He turned a bit and flashed him a teasing smile.  
“Snape’s mother, Tom? That was mental! Zevi’s sister or not I wouldn’t look at her even if we weren’t together.” he snickered a little and sprinted away.

_And he had thought that he had moods!_

Tom had to replay the whole scene, rapidly, to his mind. Where had that come from? Harry’s emotions, up to the last part, were genuine of that he was certain. Yet, the implication was there that he had used them as retaliation for his coldness.

_What was that, distraction as a covering to his hurt or a new game? Harry normally wouldn’t act that way at all so the bet was for now on a new game but he wasn’t certain..._

The realization was far more intriguing and amusing than angering. Still, it certainly wouldn’t do to show any confusion.  
“I’m going to kill you!” he took after Harry...

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

 They reached the train with seven minutes to spare, panting, more from laughter than any exertion. Any problems were behind them ... _for now_... Tom straightened his posture immediately, the usual rumours weren’t bad but something more could become damaging. Thankfully no one was paying more than the usual attention to them and they got to their compartment in a hurry.

The usual crew was there, plush Minerva, but as they greeted them earnestly Tom noticed something strange, while they were quite happy to see them, especially Harry, they didn't look unduly relieved by his presence, like they should if Diggory had spilled the beams. Also they were avoiding his eyes, though very carefully. He had to investigate...

A first probing at Alphard’s mind showed only vague memories from the night before, except his time with Minerva. This shouldn't have been possible; the Black heir didn't have the strongest mental shields even without his mark’s influence. _So what could have happened?  
_ He knew a strong possibility but he needed more data for a complete theory...

Next target was Abraxas. The same vagueness present, but other than that, an utter bore, a night spend in nothing but mindless flirting, not even networking, Tom was disgusted. - _Ah!_ A spare, almost disconnected, thought about Diggory and a memory before the latest Quidditch game. _Those two were deeply connected with yesterday_ , _of that he was certain..._

But as he was to delve deeper to find the correlation, except the already established pattern, he felt Harry’s eyes intensely on him. It wouldn't do, he was going to give him away.  _-Not that he wouldn't enjoy the terror of his followers at the realization that they were caught-_ but the memories were buried in such a way that if Malfoy understood his presence and panicked, some brain damage was unavoidable. Tom was starting to get really angry at the deception he could sense but not enough to create permanent harm, especially if it could destroy Abraxas’ usefulness. They (especially Harry) needed a distraction.

A wicked smile graced Tom’s lips.

“Will none of you ask what our golden boy was up to, yesterday?” silence, but all eyes were on him; Harry looked both pleading and murderous. His smile became a smirk.  
“Our Harry wanted to find a basilisk and get petrified... permanently...”

Harry barely managed to let out an irritated:  
“Damn you, Tom,” before utter chaos erupted.

His followers and Minerva started shouting rapid questions, Granger bursted into tears. The clamour was almost unbearable but it was certainly worth it due to Harry’s expression.  
 _What, did he thought that he would go completely unpunished after everything he had done? Not even close, this was merely the start..._

With Harry busy, trying to answer their questions, he set to work. Abraxas’ mind didn't offer any more at what happened, except the, again, connected memory of his moment with Harry after Walburga’s torture.  
 _Too sharp eyed that Malfoy! Maybe he should cure him of it...at least when it was related to him..._

Minerva’s mind was both easier and difficult. Easier because she wasn’t much at occlumency and so a piece of cake to view her deep worries about Harry yesterday, hers and of the others. Very much difficult too, because he didn't have a hold to her mind as she didn’t bear his mark (something that needed to change fast) and so it would have been impossible to realise that something was hidden if he hadn't checked the others first. Any doubt he had left was dissuaded...

_It was a magical oath and they were all of them under it!_

Tom was furious but he held it, for now, wanting to find out if there was anything more. Zevi’s mind was more structured and it took him a few moments to find out the same signs, even knowing where to look. That and a strange wall of awkwardness...With a bit more digging though he discovered something truly interesting. _Prince had dared to hit on Granger!_

On a personal level he couldn't be more indifferent, but as a matter of status it could have been a huge blow and even worse it would have drawn too much attention to his business. Thankfully Prince had enough brains and decorum to make his move at a private setting, though Tom would have preferred them to have danced a bit more reservedly. But he had finally something useful to use against her and he was going to have some fun by making Harry squirm to convince him to not punish them.

Almost lazily he set eyes on Granger:  
she was still crying profusely and sniffing but had found shelter in his lover’s arms and was hiding her tears to his neck.  
 _A bit too clingy for his tastes but for now didn’t mind._

Harry was trying unsuccessfully to calm her down with soft words and apologies, while he patted her very awkwardly at her back. His eyes were unfocused and pleading for someone to save him. He felt his attention immediately, of course, and sent him an accusing glare. Tom merely smirked, he couldn't have found a worst punishment.

Harry would have handled a Cruciatus much better...

Granger felt that she didn't have Harry’s full interest anymore, if not his own attention and raised her head. He almost didn’t need to break into her mind. Upon the meeting of his eyes she blushed, beet red, and her hand came to her neck, as in frigid. If Tom had been extremely generous he would have accepted her reaction as due to her awkwardness on where she had dared to put her hands. Unfortunately for Hermione that little gesture had been too telling, even without the tremendous blush.

Tom’s rage went sky-high.  
 _Of all the spells she could have utilized to check on Harry she had dared to use THAT?  
_ Nothing was capable anymore to hold back his wrath...

But as he whipped out his wand, to curse her as she deserved, (unfortunately less than an Unforgivable, the wards were still active at the train) was forced to reconsider. Not out of any pity to the whole lot, which had frozen like snared rabbits, (except for Prince who had risen like a Gryffindor to take the blow) ...Their own time was coming too...   
But because his charming partner had show fit to interfere, like usual. He had raised neither wand nor voice against him, not even held Granger any more protectively, but he didn’t have to. Harry merely met his poisonous, lethal, glare with a steely of his own and simply waited.

Tom could sense the protection around Granger and the others flaring to life in frightening proportions, much, much, worst than the one time he had dared to curse her. Unlike then, he knew that if he even dared to breathe wrong on her, right now, his magic will be gone forever.  
“Everyone out.” Tom barked the order.

The others had the brains to scamper away – except the mudborn of curse – she had to be dragged away by Prince... _Gryffindors!  
_ But speaking about Gryffindors, Harry continued to regard him calmly and remained immovable and unafraid in the face of his wrath.  
 _He had given him way too much leeway..._

“Do you have any idea what they have done?” he gritted out.

Harry jutted his chin up.  
“I don’t care; you are not going to hurt them.” it was a statement.

Tom lost it and grabbing Harry by the lapels of his robe he stuck him to the compartment’s wall.  
“Then you don’t have the slightest idea.”

Infuriatingly, Harry kept his calm.  
“Tom, what have they done? Usually you don’t lose it that soon.” he had the nerve to use his most understanding voice.

Tom forced himself to calm down to at least, almost, manageable level. It was the only way for him to explain and so convince Harry to drop the protection _._  – _And how it galled that he needed his partner’s permission to punish his own followers_ – But somehow the admittance was more humiliating by far.

“Your dearest friends and Granger -mostly Granger- used her pendant to check on us, to make sure you were alright after Diggory opened his mouth.”

Harry’s expression turned touched and then placating...  
“Oh this,” he bit his lips. “I know you’re angry Tom, but it can’t be that bad.” a coy look. “Can’t you forgive them, for me?” his expression soured for having used such an open manipulation, especially of that type, but he probably believed that it was the only thing that could work right now.

_Unfortunately he hadn't a clue, nothing could work now..._

Tom felt the last stings, holding him back, breaking; it was the only thing that could make him confess what really happened.  
He dragged Harry up to bring them on the same height.

“You beloved Hermione” he whispered menacing, “spied on us at our most vulnerable,” seeing that Harry was again trying to protest he continued harshly, “she’d not only watched our most private moments but, thanks to her spell, felt everything that we’d felt.”

Tom didn’t have to say anything more; he let Harry down and waited for the explosions. His partner turned from paper white with shame and indignation to trembling with rage and back again, his eyes and magic blazing murder at all stages. But when he spoke it was the last thing Tom would have expected after such a display.

“You won’t hurt them.” it wasn't even plea, it was an order.

Tom punched him and Harry blocked it, looking at him with those blazing eyes, wilful and beautiful like nothing else in the world.  
Suddenly, Tom wanted to hurt him as much as the others.  
“You still own me another eight things,” his voice was silky; “I could order you to punish them until they break, for me.”

Harry blanched; his magic manifested by making the attached benches tremble and ripple violently in their positions, even more fearsome than simply breaking them, because he controlled them to ease his frustrations. His voice turned dangerous as Tom’s.  
“Then you will end engaged to a squib, or maybe a squib yourself, your oath includes ordering others.”

It hit Tom like a giant slap.  
“Then maybe I shouldn't be engaged at all.” his words weren't fuelled only by anger, the thought of losing Harry may be unbearable but it was equally unbearable to be the one always giving in, he couldn't accept being the most dependant one.

His jab found home immediately.  
“Jeez, that wasn't even twelve hours, talk about fast, Tom.” Harry’s voice was normal, almost light, but he could read the pain in his lover’s eyes, words wouldn't have been able to describe it.

Tom left him where he was and processed to melt the benches down to gain some clarity. After he thoroughly destroyed the compartment he regarded Harry again.

“What will have me do? I can’t just accept something like that? They betrayed us.” he was cursing his own weakness for getting so affected by Harry’s pain, but he felt reassured too _. It was anything but easy to the other and he knew that_ _if it ever truly came to down to it, in a life or death situation, he came first..._

_...The problem was that such a choice would destroy Harry and he wasn’t anywhere near ready to go that far..._

Harry was holding his own admirably well.  
“They haven’t betrayed us! Salazar, Tom! They took all that risk and got knowingly in all that trouble for me, to ensure that I was alright. How can I allow then to get hurt for this?”

Tom swore viciously inside. He had been so angry that he had thoughtlessly dismissed that little fact.  
 _Put it like this it was no surprise he fought that hard. There was really no way to change Harry’s mind, he would have accepted more easily to jump from the Astronomy Tower_... He sighed inwardly; it wasn’t just blackmail anymore, if he insisted on this he was really going to lose Harry.

A predatory smirk crossed his lips. That didn't mean that he was going to make it easy, there was a whole army of concessions he wanted and was going to get thanks to this. Tom was going to have his pound of flesh, one way or another...  
“I can’t just leave them scoot free. They knew the consequences of their own actions.”

Harry sensed the difference and some of the strain left his face.  
“I never said you should. What they did was both unbelievable nosy and beyond rude, you have every right to be angry. Just please no permanent harm, torture and definitely no Unforgivables.”

Tom relaxed. Harry, had started coming around, wasn’t completely irrational.  
“It doesn't seem quite enough.” he groused, pressuring some more, just to get Harry to truly negotiate.

Harry was on him, his lips started tugging upwards.  
“That’s only because you haven’t seen it in enough creative contest, yet.”

Tom was intrigued, almost unwillingly.  
“Do tell.”

Harry’s smile broadened.  
“Have you ever thought about pranking?”

Tom would have been bitterly disappointment but something held him back. Maybe it was that dark gleeful smile. _Still, he expected better_...  
“Kid’s stuff,” he dismissed, “and certainly not befitting a Lord or Lords.” the last part sharply pointed.

Harry’s expression didn't falter, not even a little.  
“Have you tried it?” he challenged.

 _It was the challenge and the smile_ , Tom decided, _he could never resist that_. Still, he would have been a fool if he stayed only on that ...  
“What do you have in mind? And no, just humiliation doesn’t work.”

Harry didn't hesitate and started explaining with aplomb.  
“Think about it, Tom, there are thousand things that while not overtly harmful will teach them to never go that far again. I’m sure that you can think of quite a lot.”

Tom was ready to scoff him, for being too soft, but he refrained due to that dark glint in his eyes. Harry may defend them but was extremely angry too, he wanted to explore that. It helped that he had already stated spinning ideas too... _The thought of Abraxas’ reaction at seeing his reflection getting older and more repulsive every time he looked at a mirror was very appealing_...

He smirked.  
“You better make it interesting, darling.”

Harry beamed at him for the concession.  
“Trust me, I will.”

Tom decided that he had been generous enough, time to get to the root of the matter.  
“They will, of course, need to buy my forgiveness and face some -at the very last- symbolic punishment naturally enough...”

Harry’s brow creased heavily at this but he knew him too well to not expect something like that, or hope that it wasn’t necessarily, even among his friends, never mind to change his mind.  
“Obviously, what kind of punishment will that be?” he asked suspiciously.

Tom rubbed inwardly his hands; _the fun was starting_...  
“Nothing less than a quarter under tempestate.”

Just as he had staked, Harry reacted to this.  
“No, Tom, it’s too much.”

“Why?” Tom asked innocently, “it is not going to hurt them. They aren’t even going to feel like getting drown, only the danger of it.”

“Tom!”  
Harry protested furiously.   
“Its still torture, shorten it up.”

Tom was very interested to take notice that Harry, while protesting, didn't threaten to dissolve their pact to prank the others, _it looked like protecting them or not he still had his own bone to pick_...

_Good, really good!_

Tom may have far bigger fish to fry but this was too fascinating to be given up...  
“I will, to ten or even five minutes, if you give me some small things.” he offered almost mischievously.

“Like what?” his lover asked with narrowed eyes.  
 _Smart, smart man, his Harry!_

It was time to start the truly serious negotiations.  
“Like not interfering on what I will demand from Granger and agreeing to truly work beneath one banner.”

Harry winced but he kept his cool.  
“Would you mind getting more specific?”

Tom smiled his shark smile.  
“Why certainly, Harry. You already know that we’ll need covering; I want Granger to fill that role as her penance, indefinitely.”

Harry opened and closed soundlessly his mouth.  
“Why would you want her for that?” he managed to ask at least, obviously gaining time.

Tom’s eyes softened just a fraction.  
“She is a very good embellishment to the view I want to present the world, one that could work for a very long time. Indeed it will be a heavy waste of time and effort to not use the recourse.”

He didn't even need to add at how much this development would alleviate the pressure on him to flirt and so drop the possibility on Harry getting hurt quite a bit. His lover had guessed that even before asking and Tom was amused to see the gratitude fighting with his sense of altruism.

Unfortunately the fight didn't last for long, Harry’s eyes hardened and any soft emotion receded to the fierceness of battle.  
“No, this is going too far, we could destroy her any chance of future happiness.”

Tom rolled his eyes; _really, Harry and dramatics didn't go that well together_.  
“One: I never said that she should renounce any attachments, just to be discreet, like us...”

He didn't manage to finish his plan, Harry was so anxious that he interrupted him.  
“But it could still destroy her the possibility of a normal relationship with Zevi, it’s still too much.” he blurted out.

Tom sent him his iciest glare.  
“...and two:” he continued like there wasn't any disruption, “the association with us will certainly be to her advantage too.”

Harry still looked unconvinced and Tom shrugged inwardly _-if he preferred it that way?_

“This is another misdeed of hers,” he stated.  
“Zevi, at least, should have known better than dance publicly so explicitly with her.” he exaggerated to make his point.  
“There are many that, if I leave things simply like this, will seek to punish them to gain my favour.” he said without inflexion, not even a hidden smirk.

“Not if we stand behind them.”  
 _Harry’s idealism had the tendency to present itself at the most unfortunate times_... 

It was Tom’s turn to sent Harry a disbelieving stare.  
“And what should I gain with this?” he asked without pretence.

Harry, of course, turned indignant.  
“I don’t need you, I will protect them myself.”

He merely shook his head.  
“Of course you will, but there are many brainless ones, you may end just revenging them...”

Tom stopped in his tracks at the fury he could see brewing in Harry’s eyes. Someone else would have already started running.  
 _I'm losing him_ , he realised.

“...Of course nothing of this may come to pass. Hermione may decide to help us and even if she doesn’t, she can cash her penalty by taking some remote research post to the continent for a time, we’ll need to fill the knowledge gap if we are to take Grindelwald.”

Harry’s gaze was still cool but he didn’t look ready for a murderous breakdown anymore.  
“You’re beyond cruel, Tom.” he told him solemnly.

He could have answered him, teasingly, that he already known where he was getting into but he chose to cut the chase.  
“Their crime was unforgivable, if they were different people, or you didn’t care, they wouldn’t live past sunset.”

 _All joking aside that was the further he could go_...

Harry understood the message.  
“I will talk to her about it, maybe she will want to help, but it will definitely not be an indefinitely arraignment.” draw his own line in the sand.  
“No more than five to ten years.” but finally conceded.

“Fifteen.”  
Tom insisted, to thoroughly cover any bases.

Harry smirked.  
“Really, Tom, if we haven’t gained sufficient power by then something will be very wrong with us.”

Tom tilted his head in acknowledgement. He didn't need anything else.  
“We can do it together if you prefer.” he offered.

 _Truthfully, he trusted Granger’s ambitiousness and rather doubted that it would need that many threats_...

Harry shook his head, still looking worried. Tom could guess the concern’s source quite easily.  
“I wouldn't worry if I were you. Prince is so infatuated that he consciously risked my wrath, this is not going to defer him for pursuing her.” he could be gracious in victory from time to time.

Harry visibly relaxed with this. He took a look around and raised two expectant and somewhat sarcastic eyebrows.  
“So?”

Tom created a very luxurious divan from the nearest pile and countered the challenge by offering a seat. Harry accepted it and even sat near the middle.- _So, he wasn't in the doghouse-_  He didn't make a move to fix the place himself, probably as a point that it was his own mess, but Tom didn't mind... _T_ _here wasn't better threat than a visual one_.

They rested against one another for some quiet, tranquil, moments. It had been a while since they had just hanged together without anything else in the horizon but enjoying each other. Tom was tempted to let things be for quite awhile more but he needed to tackle the main problem too, now that the metal was still hot...

He regrettably opened his mouth.  
“So, what about the other matter?” he asked casually.

Harry wasn't fooled; he was instantly on alert, though he answered in the same light tone.  
“I thought we’d fixed that years ago.”

Tom kept the same soft voice.  
“We did, partially, but my followers remain mostly my followers and yours are just your own – and yes, no matter how you deny it – they are your followers to the deepest meaning of the word.”

Harry was up like a shot and started pacing between the rubble like a caged tiger.  
“Even if it was true, which is not, I'm not going to betray them like that.”

Tom nearly rolled his eyes. _Harry would naturally see it like that_....  
“I see it more like formally acknowledging they are under your protection instead of letting them hanging.”

Harry started messing his hair, too aggravated for a calmer reaction.  
“And what sort of leader would I be if I acknowledge their devotion and then hand them over, like a present?” he asked and it wasn't completely rhetoric.

Tom was pleased, Harry had started accepting the right order of things, there were only some more steps missing.  
“I never said you should hand them over, my intend runs more toward the lines of a joined leadership beneath the same banner.”

Harry snorted his opinion of Tom’s intend, but there was a light of deep interest to his eyes.  
“I'm not exactly fond of the existing banner, too Gothic to my tastes.” was all he said.

Tom couldn't resist teasing.  
“More to the lines of turning green every time you look at it,” he pointed out with savage amusement. “but I’m considering a new symbol, one more appropriate to the circumstances.”

Harry looked at him in stunned surprise and Tom conjured a small painting of his new design with a warm feeling of accomplishment.  
“So, what do you think?”

Harry started examining with interest and Tom waited for the verdict.

He hadn't spent undue time to this but it certainly had some work. He had wanted something new that while fairly intimidating was lighter than the dark mark and represented them both to a certain point. He believed that his design: a menacing and frightening looking green snake coiled around a comparable sized silver lighting bolt, both suppressing and supporting, had accomplished this.

Finally Harry met hesitantly his eyes.

“It is beautiful, Tom, I won’t deny that and loads better than the Dark Mark, but I can’t accept it,” he rubbed his scar, looking uncomfortable.  
“I'm not that comfortable being represented by that symbol.”

Tom wasn't disappointed, he could understand that and if he hadn't been running rugged he would have fixed it before.  
“Alright, I will find something else.” it was easy to agree, compared to the scope of things it was a very small thing.

But Harry hadn't finished, yet, he was biting his lips harshly. Tom didn't like that gesture, _too much like appropriation to his own rights_.  
“Also, while I really like that motion – in theoretical scale – I'm far less comfortable with the practical applying. How can I do something like that to Leonard? I promised him his freedom; or even Minerva and even less Mione?”

Tom couldn't help himself a scatting comment.  
“I thought we had agreed that Granger is going to live.” he pointed out.

Harry’s expression would have incinerated stone.  
“Don’t you dare.” he thundered out.

Tom was getting just as pissed.

“And I already told you that she is too dangerous to stay alive, unmarked.” he forced himself to calm down;  
he was never going to convince Harry with force.  
“As for your Grandfather, you may have promised him whatever you want but I saw what happened from his perceptive. He has sworn himself to you three times already –one of them a fealty oath– the mark is a very short walk from that. Even Minerva has sworn herself to you in my presence.”

Harry was at a loss, he bit his lips, again. _He really should cut him of that habit, promptly_...  
“But he didn't finished the oath, I didn't let him.” there was an element of childish grumbling there, which was way unusual, his Harry was as disillusioned with the reality of life as himself.

Tom found himself being almost tender.  
“Harry we both know that the conclusion is not always necessary.” he lectured. “Especially, if one is not unwilling...The true foundation of one’s Magic is always the extent of one’s own will.” he half smiled half smirked. “The question is what do you really want to do, sweetheart?”

That seemed to fortify Harry, he smiled lightly.  
“I could ask them.” he decided.

Tom groaned softly but nodded his acceptance. Harry could keep his sensitivities, he could afford it...  
“Do that, if it pleases you.”

 _...Both Leonard and Minerva had the right mindset and if Granger dared to be a Gryffindor about it, for all her intelligence, he was going to ply her with so many security charms that she would end wishing for the relatively freedom of the mark_...

A strange, thoughtful, expression crossed Harry’s eyes at this and he met his own, piercing him to his core.  
“Tom,” he started softly, “Do you know what would please me? No, more than that, make me downright happy? To let the guys go from their binding until the time for the new one.”

Tom gasped at the full challenge.  
“Are you out of your addled mind?” he managed to ask, looking beyond murderous and barely holding a typhoon like temper.

 _If someone, anyone, else had been crazy enough to dare suggesting something even remotely in those lines he would have ended dead on the spot, but not Harry..._ That look alone, – _iron will and green fire, together with something else –_ had gotten straight to his groin and the bold demand had done the rest...edging the tiny heat that was building low to his belly into something not so easily ignorable...  
 _No, boldness wasn’t quite the right word; sheer bloody audacity was maybe coming a bit closer..._

Harry was anything but intimidated with this; he continued looking at him with those damned eyes and wasn’t backing down an inch.  
“If we are truly going to be one side then it should happen through equal terms.” he challenged unflinching.

The message was more than clear; if Tom really wanted power over Harry’s people and the integration, then he had no choice but consent to this. He could beat him black and blue for said audacity, or even curse him down to insanity, but the only result he could manage would be to lose that chance forever... It was within Harry’s rights to demand this, he knew. The only thing that Tom could do to the others, as per their agreement, if he discarded this, was to extend their torture at ten minutes. Which, even Harry knew, were mere crumbs compared to this. 

That understanding wasn't lowering his rage, or his arousal for that matter, and he felt deeply conflicted.  
 _How dare Harry demand something like that of him, never mind invoking such things inside him_ _?  
_ He wanted either to beat him to death or throw him down and teach him the price and utter limit to his power...  
 _To take his lips until they were raw and bleeding, to make him bleed in other ways too_...

Tom suddenly had it with his whole self. He expelled, forcefully, every feeling he had, both angry and lustful, to the link;  
 _he needed a clear head for this..._

With that achieved, he was able to think again. The problem was that even on a purely cerebral state he was still fascinated enough with Harry’s conundrum brain to do everything in his power to win him over, but maybe this time the price was more heavy than reasonable. He should weigh his options to the utmost care...

The most offending thing in this – frankly overbearing demand – had been -for Tom- to end up affected from his own patent of tricks, the ones that Harry was usually impervious to. Not that his lover had done it deliberately, he was too new in this, never mind how innocent and Gryffindorish, to ever go near to that route. It had been done by pure instinct, which made it more dangerous than less so, and all around infuriating...

And yet Tom knew, without a shred of doubt that, – even if he knew – even if Harry had come to full awareness on the extent of his influence, he wasn't going to think him as weak, ever. His lover was very straightforward to this; aiming only to protect the others and had nothing to do with undermining him.

... _H_ _e_ _should have known and anticipated this_...

Harry had just gotten into his crazy head to get the others, even temporally, free so that the couples, at least, could run away if they chose to.

_But could he really afford to give into that?_

He doubted that his followers would choose to desert them. Their devotion to him was threefold secured, due his charisma, ideas and, of course, ambitions. The added fact that they were equally devoted to Harry and their past adventures to the future only added to that hold, sealing the deal, but the danger of them thinking less of him was very present. That, or taking it as reward for their inconceivable action, (betrayal, no matter what Harry said) which was out of the question...

_Still spinning everything to his advantage was what he did.  
_

Tom knew that if he worked this just right he could use it to scare his followers into deeper submission out of fear of losing their places and, far more importantly, win Harry’s gratitude and his acceptance for a number of demands on an infinite timeframe...  
 _Yes, that was what he was going to do_...

“It will happen when I chose to and exactly at how I chose to.” he said at last.

Harry looked at him stunned, clearly expecting a rejection by the time it took him to decide, recognising full well what he had asked, but it wasn’t only gratitude... Excitement, knowledge and elation was radiating from his pores underlined with feverish dilated eyes and fiery red cheeks. In Tom’s haste to purge his emotions he had just broadcasted them to the link. _Shit!_

“Thank you!” his partner's voice broke due to his feelings.

Tom had simply enough, he was going to show him exactly who had the most power in this. He took Harry’s lips harshly, violently, the way he liked it. Harry responded as he expected, melting and trembling against him. Only it wasn’t a power play anymore... He was losing it, fast. It wasn’t only to punish him for his little display any longer. He burned, needing to take him again and again...

That raw need finally snapped him out of it and he pushed Harry away before it really got to the point of no return. Tom wasn’t a slave to his instincts, he prided himself being the absolute master of himself, mind, body and magic, not the other way around, but the thought of what he had almost done made him white with frigid. Beltane was more than four months away; all his plans could have ended for nothing...

Naturally Harry didn’t see it that way.  
“What the hell is your problem?”

The last thing Tom wanted was to admit his weakness and, as many times in his life before, covered his panic with derision.  
“We lost enough time, dealing with this; it will be beyond foolish to lose more by exchanging liquids.”

Harry winced at the terminology.  
“If you think so.” his voice held only traces of coldness but he could read the hurt.

He softened his voice the barest bit.  
“Harry,” he started patiently, “we have been here –alone– for more than an hour, I will be surprised if our little tète a tète hadn’t made the rounds of the train, yet.”

“Salazar!” Harry was blushing furiously up to his ears...  
“Alright, we’ll better call the others.”...and his mortal embarrassment quite plain, but regained his composure and caustic humour fast enough.  
“The damage has probably been done, though.” he pointed out, unrepentant.

Tom wondered for the nth time what he was going to do with Harry. He had been counting in his embarrassment to this but after a brief moment of mortification he was back to teasing.  
“You never give up?” he asked in supposed resignation.

Harry tried to look innocent.  
“Should I?”

They shared a grin but then Harry sent him his best puzzled look. Tom had learned to be wary of those.  
“I don’t understand something, though.” Harry started.  
“You were – no, still are – pretty much pissed when I asked you to release the guys and yet you agreed?”

Tom glared daggers.  
“Your point?”

Harry naturally didn't back down.  
“I just don’t see what you gain with this? The whole point was for equal leadership between us when you were already angry with me for my interference, it doesn't make much sense.”

Tom would have been much better if he didn't need to answer to this.

“One: you may gain official power to my followers but you already could veto some of their punishment, so nothing lost there. On the contrary your own followers are free to do as they will, that needs to stop. And two: what do you think will happen if they just continued being two separated fractions of dark and light magic? If we die or even fight, which is far from impossible, how long until a new civil war starts brewing?”

He really hated that soft look on Harry’s eyes.  
“I know that I was right to trust you to do the right thing.” his friend told him with a smile.

Tom sent a mild curse which Harry dogged.  
“You’re delusional, that or –for once– didn''t really care for the right thing yourself.” he pointed with precision.

Harry’s grin was downright mischievous.  
“Not exactly, but you put a lot of pressure for me to agree, I thought it was worth a shot.”

Tom gritted his teeth at the realisation of his misstep.  
“I’m calling the others; I have ten minutes of punishment to dice out.” he informed, maybe childishly.

The smile was gone like smoke and Harry was glaring right back.  
“The deal was for five.” _That was far more like it!_

Tom’s smile was gleeful but chilling.  
“Only without added things, care to take the last demand back?”

Harry sent him an equally chilling smile.  
“According to an older and much referred deal you can’t use my friends’ against me.” Tom was both frustrated and enjoying himself.

“Maybe, but you already agreed to this... so, unless you want to start negotiating from the start you better accept it.”  
Harry’s face told him all he needed to know, he really was considering it.  
“Seven minutes.” he said at least, his final offer.

Harry nodded tensely his agreement and Tom concentrated into calling the others back but, even as he finished with his task, could see that Harry was still on edge. There was still a chance he could try to take the deal back as it wasn't bound through an oath.  
“Any particularly preference for your symbol to the new mark?” _he wasn't cajoling Harry, merely asserting his position_...

Harry relaxed a bit.  
“I could accept a snake, especially a particular one, if I must.” there was the barest hint of teasing.

Tom felt a fierce surge of pride that Harry would prefer the emblem he gave him above anything else, on the other hand, _N_ _o_.-  
“Two snakes intertwined?” Harry nodded his acceptance. “One: too suggestive and two: we are neither a firm of healers nor messengers to use it.”

Harry’s lips twitched.  
“Oh, I don’t know, I doubt you would accept a lion and the stag was my father’s symbol, not mine.”

Tom frowned. _Indeed he liked neither of those_.  
“Can’t you find something else, something that could represent both of us?”

“Something that could represent both of us...”  
Harry looked deep in thought and then he outright smiled, a rather cheeky smile, Tom braced himself.

“The only thing that comes to mind is a Yin-Yang.” he said obviously expecting him to blow a gasket.  
Tom wasn’t in a hurry to reject it, Harry may have brought it in teasing, but the more he thought about it the more he liked it.  
 _Harry wanted snakes intertwined too_...

He started visualising what he wanted to create and after he had it completely shaped started conjuring it.  
This time there wasn’t going to be a rejection...  
Harry took the new painting and gaped, looked again and gaped some more.

Tom noticed that he took great care to not wrinkle it, though his fingers were lightly trembling and felt his lips stretching in a rather feline smile. Harry was going to accuse him again of having a big head but he felt that it was a true masterpiece. Indeed, the Yin-Yang surrounded by two intertwining, green and silver and green and gold, Ouroborous biting each other’s tails, was one of the more elegant things he had seen...

Harry shocked or not, truly appreciated it.  
“I thought you said nothing too suggestive?” he managed.

Tom thought that it was rather mild as complain.  
“It doesn’t look that way though.” he pointed out.

Harry was still too agitated but he wasn’t giving it back either.  
“It shouts what we are to each other to the four winds; I can’t believe you want that.”

Tom couldn’t help a smile, this was a better reaction than Harry kissing him to distraction, it had truly touched him...  
 _Else he wouldn’t fight it that hard._  
“Maybe to our people, no one else will figure it out. Do you like it?” he put a challenge himself.

Harry blushed scarlet.  
“Of course I like it, but how...?” he didn’t manage to finish the question; their followers had found their way back and were knocking on the door...

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

_ **Harry’s pov** _

Harry had quite a lot of things to say at Tom for his crazy inspiration and the way he expected things to go, but the door’s knocking interrupted him mid-speak, he sighed, he would have to make his feelings, regarding this problem, clear at a later hour... _and it wasn’t even the largest of their problems_...

At Tom’s sharp order the door was opened a fraction by Alphard, who took a swift look inside and was visibly taken aback. A look of impatience crossed Tom’s face and his voice took the familiar silky dangerous timbre.  
“Do you plan to waste my time, Alphard?”

Alphard hastened to obey, looking faintly green and probably expecting to meet his premature end right about now, Minerva was the next one at the door and Alphard stiffened imperceptibly in apparent terror for her safety.  
 _Oh for crying out loud!_

Harry interfered before Tom lost all patience and decided to spice things out of boredom. He was certainly capable of this, even without breaking their deal. _  
The faster things were over the better_...

“Come inside, all of you, no one is going to die.”  
Tom sent him a baleful look for interrupting his fun but he didn’t contradict him.

Mione, Brax and Zevi got inside, looking more awkward than anything else, but surprisingly enough were accompanied by Leonard and Eileen. Zevi tried to block his sister from entering but she persisted with a stubborn tilt to her head and all the Slytherin masks in the world couldn’t hide her relief at finding him alive and unhurt.

Tom focused all his attention on Eileen, ignoring Leonard completely, but the occurrence could hardly called positive.  
“Anything worth reporting, Miss Prince.” his voice was completely frosty.

Eileen bent her head in submission, half covering her cheeks with her long dark tresses and kept her eyes respectably down. It was flattering; her sooty eyelashes were making quite the nice contrast in all that paleness.  
“No, my Lord.” she said softly, not quite terrified yet.

 _Tom was dead wrong!_ Harry decided, _Eileen wasn’t ugly. She just had thick eyebrows and a heavy jaw, very reminiscing of her older brother’s, or her possible future son’s, other than that she had very intelligent dark eyes and a quiet dignity. Some man was going to be very lucky someday to be able to call her his wife_.

Not that he wasn’t surprised by her presence here, he was. She wasn’t an inner circle member to be allowed and she certainly wasn’t an idiot to risk her Lord’s wrath on a whim. A startling thought crossed Harry’s mind and he forcefully dismissed it.   
 _Tom couldn’t be right on Eileen crushing on him, he was just trying to mess with his head like usual_. The girl never tried to get his attention and yet, the moment she felt his eyes insisting on her, even under Tom’s intense scrutiny, coloured quite spectacularly. _Crap!  
_

Tom noticed of course and Harry shivered at the menace he could sense coming from him, Eileen seemed to shrink in herself; he put up some protections, just in case.

“Then your presence here is unnecessarily, unless you wish to share your brother’s punishment,” a quick glare at Harry’s direction for not allowing him to curse her just because, while Zevi and Herm looked pleading,  
“But you seem to be innocent of his crime.”

Eileen was a very sensible girl; she curtsied and was out of the door in a flash.

A collective relieved sigh was almost heard but then the tension started building again, no one had missed Tom’s comment about punishment and they were imagining God knows what. He was ready to reassure them again but his partner’s hand around his wrist (not quite violently) sent a very different message. He understood and didn’t speak. All the same, he conjured seats for them from the rubble. Tom tensed but he didn’t care.  _His lover may prefer them on their knees but this was the further that he could go with this..._

Tom then spared a moment on Leonard.  
“It was very kind of you to come here; you saved me the time I would have wasted later to find you.” Leonard gaped at this. but the teen Dark Lord’s words were the last warning...he cast:

“Tempestato.”

Harry started silently counting the minutes, until the punishing session was over. He didn’t like this, as in at all, but he had accepted it and understood. – _Sort of_ _–_ For that reason he kept a totally expressionless face, they could guess his disagreement well enough, but he wasn’t going to make a public fuss about it. They were going to deal with such things in private.

As a friend he could do all the appeals he wanted, but a joined leadership was a completely different matter. An open disparity could sink things quite fast and most of their friends were Slytherins, it was in their nature to exploit such opportunities... Still, he felt quite sick to watch them gasp, searching for a fresh breath, locked in their own minds. Harry longed to avert his eyes, to forget himself by concentrating on something else - _anything else-_  instead of facing them in those endless, endless, moments...

 _Salazar knew he had enough serious problems of his own to consider_ , _but he couldn’t, he owed them at least this much._

Finally, the seven minutes were over. Their friends got their bearings back and slumped against their chairs. Although they still panted, like they had run for miles and miles, none of them looked worse the wear or were sending him resentful glances for allowing it without protest.  
On the contrary, Harry caught them, mostly the Slytherins, glancing secretly and clearly conveying to each other:

_‘‘That was all?’’_

On one part he was relieved, on the other, they weren’t as discreet they believed and Tom’s jaw had started clenching in annoyance. He prepared himself to run interference, again, but then Tom did something that went beyond astonishing.  
He took his hand and started speaking:

“You are undoubtedly aware that you got away far too lightly, compared to your crime.” he stated haughtily and they looked at him in terror expecting far worse.  
“The reason for that rare favour is because, today, I have ample reason to celebrate and share my happiness. Harry agreed to share his life with me...” he squeezed his hand and unglamoured the rings.

_Suddenly it was too hard to breathe._

Harry was used into rolling with the punches but this was something else. He could understand the timing but it still wasn’t making much sense after Tom’s insistency on secrecy. Nothing truly did today his partner had done naught but constantly cross signals and he was too weathered down and exhausted to decipher them all.

A huge cheer was heard with the announcement and Harry felt annoyingly like a bride. A part of him had been alright with the secrecy, needing to keep the change close to his heart, for now, even from his friends. Yet, he couldn’t help but being touched with this, both the semi public declaration (for whatever, other than the obvious, reason) and their friends’ happiness for them.

“Thanks guys.” his voice got clogged by emotion and his death grip on Tom’s hand was proof enough that it wasn’t only directed at the others.

The others smiled in understanding to his outburst but knew much better than stop paying full attention on Tom. Indeed, a moment later, his partner continued.  
“Do I need to warn you that if you dare to do something in those lines, again, or offend me in any other way, it won’t be the case anymore?” that was said with a very charming smile, but no one missed the deadly intend. The smiles dimmed and a shudder took them.

Message passed, things went back to being pleasant.  
 _Or so it seemed._

Harry couldn't help but being uneasy with Tom’s behaviour, not the threat; that seemed the only normal and consistent thing of the day. What sincerely troubled him was that said behaviour was cleanly cut on two different patterns. One consisted the usual cautious, (paranoid) manipulative manner, the other, while still manipulative, was far more indulgent and infinitely less cautious.

 _Deeply inside he had to admit that he was terrified of that part_...

Harry was still so engrossed to his thoughts that everything felt more dreamlike than reality. But when Brax came to congratulate them he noticed that, while formal, dared to use ‘Tom,’ instead of ‘My Lord.’

...If any of his friends heard this, Harry was sure that he, or she, would comment that he was approaching paranoia himself. That it was only the mellow part, present in the start of every relationship, but knew better. Tom may indeed feel like that, _(_ _like_ _he did_ _,_ _wanting him constantly, to his total embarrassment and, more dangerous, longed to please him in every way he could)_ but he hated it too...

Zevi was formal as well but he literally beamed at them...Minerva kissed them on both cheeks, Tom stiffened but, strangely enough, endured it.

...Harry’s fear that his partner was merely tolerating the new aspect to them just to keep him was totally appeased only to be replaced with the realisation that Tom may want him as much he did but was far from pleased with that fact. The morning scene, for a start, had been proof enough, Tom had responded, more than enthusiastically, but afterwards he was like a scalded cat.

 _That or he simply hated for Harry to take any kind of initiative to intimacy_...

Mione nearly cried again and hugged him so hard he nearly passed out.  
 _(Not a_ _hint of dark feelings from there, thank God!_ _)_

 _...He had been prepared for some testing but this went further than anything he had steeled himself_. _How long they were going to last with such baggage was anyone’s guess_... Harry had a feeling that the other shoe weren’t far from dropping and when it did the less open Tom was, in regards to them, or indulgent, the less he was going to withdraw...

Alphard patted his back, shook Tom’s hand and started muttering about fireworks and throwing the best engaging party ever created.

Harry was anything but certain with this. A party sounded nice but somehow he was too weary for it, plus, rather doubted Tom would want such attention thrown to them, even at a very close circle. He was very surprised that he didn't veto it on the spot.  
 _But then again most of his attention was focused on making Brax uncomfortable, Harry still didn’t know what he had done to gain Tom’s ire to that extent; he was going to find out pretty soon, that much for certain_...

And then Leonard took him aside and sent him a step closer to residency at Janus Thickey ward. - _Congratulations he could handle._ But his dearest grandfather not only seconded Alphard’s suggestion for a party but insisted on hosting it at Potter manor and more importantly that they definitely should spend the vacation there too, not merely Alphard and Minerva as it was arranged. Harry was at a complete loss...

“But your mother?” he tried, “it wouldn’t be right to put her in such trouble after her recent injury.”

Leonard wasn’t backing down.  
“All the more reason for you two to come, you need recuperation too.” there was a strange look in his eyes, intense devotion mixed with resolution. The resolution had been there before but the devotion was new.

Harry considered briefly using Legilimency to find out the reason for the change, but the fact that Leonard was indeed bound to him with the fealty oath made him pause. He wouldn’t take anything more from him, especially, not without his permission.

Still, this could end pretty much awkward, he decided to stop being subtle.  
“Look Leonard, I appreciate this, really do, but your mother can’t, won’t, be comfortable with us there, especially with the party you are planning.”

Leonard looked confused for a moment and then laughed.  
“I get what you mean and believe me, if the news of the party don’t end broadcasted to the world, it won’t be a problem with her, she is way past such attitudes.” his smile faltered. “We’d paid dearly for them.”

He honestly didn't know what to say in this and then his grandfather continued.  
“Please Harry; I won’t say it’s completely selfless, I‘ll feel better with you two there to protect mum until we move with the Princes’ but I honestly want you there, you’re family and if you’re that serious about Tom he is as well.”

He didn’t want to hear any of this. On one part Leonard’s confession about his mum stirred all his protective feelings and guilt. On the other he had longed to hear something like that, from a blood relative, for all of his childhood and now that he finally had, had no idea on what to do with it. Yet, something inside him still insisted that it would be a really bad idea – for everyone – to associate with this family. The best, or worst, part: he knew that his grandfather was honest; some things simply couldn’t be avoided when one was a practised legilimens...

He was getting desperate at finding the right words to decline when he felt Tom’s arm circling his waist. Harry was almost faint with relief,  
 _-he could finally get out of this impossible position-_ he didn’t even care about the scatting language his partner was undoubtedly going to use...  
But it looked like Tom had decided to do nothing but shock him today...

“I assume that there is a laboratory in the house?” he commented lightly.

Harry stiffened to this but Tom held him even tighter against him.  
 **“Tom.”** he hissed warningly, a step before creating a scene.  
Tom ignored him.

Leonard was oblivious to the tension, beaming at them and not even bothered with the snake language.  
“Of course, my father’s, it will be my pleasure if you use it.”

Tom radiated satisfaction.  
“We’ll love to...” he said immediately and offered his most charming smile.  
“All of us.”

Harry had enough with this. He untangled and glared for all that was worth.  
 **“No way in hell.”**

Tom merely raised an eyebrow. **  
“Do you really prefer Malfoy manor?”** he almost teased but not exactly.

Naturally Harry had almost nothing to say at this but it simply made him feel even more of kilter and didn’t like this as in at all.  
“ **Hardly.”** he admitted at least and returned his attention on Leonard.  
“You certainly don’t have to.” he offered in the dim hope of making him to change his mind and managing to get away.

But Leonard, although with a pretty good idea of Tom’s true character and having cursed by him a very short while ago, took no hint.  
“I don’t mind, we haven’t fallen that far to be incapable of hosting some friends for a while.” he said almost offended, but then smiled.  
“And I can do it even alone, anyway, thanks to you.” he boasted patting his pocket.

 _The bet!_ Harry had heard of it but he had written it off as a bad joke.

He wondered if Leonard flirted with a death wish.  
Thankfully, he didn’t have to restrain Tom; he wanted something from Leonard and so held back to his anger.  
“How much did you got?” his own voice held only sick curiosity.

“350 galleons.” Leonard couldn’t hide his pride.  
Harry felt really sick. _This was from more than half the school and it probably got into that point because of the recent time he spent alone with Tom_ , but before he could blow up Tom’s cool voice soothed him.

“You are going to fix this Leonard Potter,” he ordered. “You are going to obliviate anyone that paid you.”  
Leonard paled with the bulk of work he had to do but Tom continued.  
“If you’re incapable of casting the spell, Zevi, Alphard, or Minerva will help you.”

Leonard didn't look constipated any more.  
“Alright that’s fair, I don’t want to get you in trouble.” at the door he stopped.  
“By the way, I almost forgot. Tom, Diggory wanted to talk to you at prefect’s compartment.” he mentioned casually and left.

Harry’s head snapped up hearing this, _and here it was_ , everything that had refused to see, plain into Leonard’s eyes, without a single defence:  
 _‘I need to go in Nurmengard, the Dark Lord has a member of my family.’_

 _No wonder for his grandfather’s need to go all out. After Dumbledore’s indifference this must have looked like heaven in comparison_.  
Still, at the moment, Leonard’s reaction was the last of his concerns;  
Sam had gotten himself in grave danger, _the fucking idiot!_

 **“** **Tom, don’t.”** Harry started, almost panicked at the wave of angry magic he could sense, _he didn’t even care what Sam wanted, although he had quite the hint_. He barely had the presence of mind to use parseltongue.

Tom’s eyes were glinting dangerously, promising murder.  
 **“Why should I, darling? If dearest Sam wants a meeting, for whatever reason, I’m obliged to give it to him.”**

Harry swallowed down his bile, looking desperately at his partner.  
 **“Please.”**

Tom froze.  
 **“** **You plead for your second choice, golden boy?”** the cruel smile couldn’t hide his unpleasant surprise from hearing this.  
 **“That’s only proves that I have every right and reason to hurt him, as per our agreement yesterday.”**

Harry was so flabbergasted and angry with the first comment that even the direct threat and the allusion to their talk became almost irrelevant for a moment.  
 **"Come again, my what? Who the hell came up with that utter crap?”**

That seemed to mollify Tom, but not completely.

 **“** **Malfoy, he was under the impression that you needed a second option and tried to set him up with you.”** he informed Harry airily, but the sourness returned immediately. **  
“Not a completely erroneous assumption, of course. You already admitted of considering sleeping with him.”**

Harry gaped at him.  
 _Brax had dared to do what? It was a miracle then that he hadn’t ended dead on the spot and the danger was far from over_.

Brax was safe from anything deadly, of course, but Harry could sense that Tom’s lethal rage was anything but dispatched. No shields of care were going to protect Sam and even less protests of the simple truth that Sam was never his lover and so completely irrelevant to their deal. Even a pointed comment of Diggory’s position in society was going to end at deaf ears; his lover was so incensed with Sam’s perceived challenge that the most probable end was Sam tortuously dead and Tom magicless.

 _He needed to be more inventive than that.  
_ Harry hated to give more power over him on Tom, especially after today’s realisations, but if it saved Sam’s life (and Tom’s magic) was worth it.

****“Sam is not a threat to you, Tom...or a possibility that he could ever be so...Not out of anything as simple as the belief of being straight but because the only way it could have worked with him is if I was the golden boy you mentioned...and we both know that I was never truly that...”** **

Miracle of miracles that seemed to work, something like mirth danced at Tom’s eyes and if there was relief as well...  
that was never going to get disclosed...

****“Don’t fret, sweetheart, I'm not going to get overboard with the badger, merely the just deserts for his tattling, nothing more or less than the others.”** **

Harry relaxed, _that much he could handle_.  
 **“Alright, let’s go.”**

Tom raised a sardonic eyebrow.  
 **“Going were? Last I checked Diggory wanted the meeting with me, after all. Don’t you trust me?”** he asked only half teasing.

Harry told himself to keep calm.  
 **“I do,”** _to a point_ , **“** **but I have a feeling that the request has to do with something I asked him.”**  
 _No reason to elaborate on details if he was mistaken_.

Tom’s teeth flashed, reading perfectly the implied words.  
 **“I’m honoured.”** he replied dryly, **“Anyway, if that’s the case I will call you.”** he dismissed him and headed for the door.

Harry had enough with this; he set to follow Tom and give him a true piece of his mind when the realisation hit him,  
he was stuck where he stood.  
“Tom!” he bellowed out, deeply offended; “You will pay.” he promised not bothering with snake language at that.

That had a minimal result. Tom’s eyes narrowed out to the others that had watched the whole exchange looking progressive more terrified.  
“You already have your orders, go to it. Granger stay.” was the only thing he bothered to say.

The others looked at Harry worriedly but left in a hurry, Alphard half dragging Minerva. Mione looked like she wanted to dismiss Tom’s order and leave but at the end she stayed, biting her lips and looking beyond worried but not daring to interfere with them. Harry was still enraged for getting dismissed like that but words didn’t look like they would have much of a result so he moulded the rest of the rubble around Tom, up to his waist.

 _At least to have him work for it and see if he liked being contained for a chance_.  
Alarmingly, Tom didn’t even look bothered with that. Also, predictably, it only took him a couple moments to free himself from said trap.

“Harry,” he started quite calmly but with a hidden underline of danger, “I have kept my part of the deal, but you haven’t, yet. If you want the Hufflepuff to live you will talk with Granger, right about now.” having sort of won the case he left, leaving Harry insulting him with every profanity he knew...

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS Edited at 10/11/2014
> 
> Please review to inspire me for more...


	10. News And Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...With a vengeance...but there is always friendship...

 

**Chapter Ten: News and Negotiations**

_ **Tom’s pov** _

Tom’s head hurt, but he had the strange urge to whistle, even with the dull throb that wasn’t leaving him. _It felt so good to pull something like that over Harry!_ Still, even by slamming the link down as far as it got, he wasn’t able to completely avoid it. Regardless of anything else, he wasn’t going to publicly drop his masks like that, _for any reason_. A moment later he was even more pleased with his restraint as he found a couple intimately talking between compartments.

_Amelia and Tristan Davies! How interesting..._

He nodded at them in passing and very carefully cast a charm of attractiveness and lust at the Bones bint, making her vulnerable and irresistible. _Even if Davies managed to hold back where many others wouldn't...The muggles would probably attack her on sight only to be repulsed like if she was a leper..._

 _After all, Harry had declined the specific deal including her protection_.

But it wasn’t only a petty revenge. Tom really needed to vent a bit, else he was going to kill Diggory on sight. It wasn’t even a matter of Harry’s protests and protections, or even the consequences of those. If he lost it right now and disembowelled the Hufflepuff, like he desired, all his ambitions and everything he had achieved so far would be for nothing.

 _Diggory wasn’t worth that, not even Dumbledore’s head on a stick was worth that_...

A bit cheered up with his thoughts and upon hearing the Hufflepuff couple’s hasty retreat to a compartment, Tom continued on. Unfortunately, he had almost reached the prefects’ compartment when he was hit with another blinding spike, one that nearly incapacitated him, and had no choice but to lean against a wall for precious wasted moments.

Tom was just the tiniest bit shaken. This was far worse than the previous attack. _Didn’t Harry understand that by taking such advantage of their two way link was merely worsening the badger’s situation?_

But no, his partner’s ire had nothing to do with the current circumstance, so he decided to deal with him, and his moods, later. _(He looked so forward to this...)_ Thankfully no one was there to notice his weak moment, and he continued to his business with no fuss. A brief check to ensure that Diggory was alone inside, or that wasn’t a trap, and the door was suddenly forced open, his magic insuring no noise but the softest bang.

Sam wasn't expecting him to simply forego societal niceties and was instantly facing him, looking both surprised and sick from sheer terror.  
“Tom,” he managed to utter in an almost steady voice. _(Almost being the key word here)  
_ At least Diggory had a fairly good idea what was awaiting him.

Tom had the strong impression that if the badger was a mudborn he would have found him on his knees, praying for his soul.  
 _It was a pleasant thought._

Still, such a petrified reaction wasn’t in accordance with the bold way he had literally demanded his presence here.  
 _-It wasn’t making much sense-_ and it set heavy alarms inside Tom, but he could see that Diggory was already in such an incoherent state that an immediate proper punishment wasn’t going to give any answers.

Regrettably, he visibly put aside his wand.  
“Why did you called me here, Diggory?” he asked, sounding entirely natural.

Sam, while obviously still terrified, (there was no mistaking his trembling limbs) straightened his body and dared to look at him almost to his eyes. There was not a hint of challenge in his body language but there was definitely dignity.

“I'm sorry to interrupt you from whatever you were doing,” he said without the slightest hint of innuendo in his voice.  
“But as this is about Harry, I knew that you needed to know.” he finished with quiet resolution.

Tom’s eyebrows knitted, his mind getting instantly on even stronger alert.  
 _Well, obviously._

Still, this sounded rather ominous.  
“What about Harry?” he asked sharply.

_If it was a pathetic attempt at blackmail he was going to kill Diggory in the most horrifying way possible, and Harry would have to deal with it..._

Sam dared to meet his eyes, once.  
“He approached me for a portkey to Nurmengard, telling me that a member of his family is held prisoner there.”

Tom’s world literally stopped for an entire endless moment, his mind incapable of dealing with it.  
But he forced himself to do so.

 _...If he had only got there five minutes later..?_ He didn't doubt it; _Harry had been that desperate to die... If he had got there five minutes later there was a good chance that he would have never gotten Harry back even remotely the way he was...and not only regarding his features ..._ Everything he had read indicated how much harder and mentally damaging was a resurrection without the original body, or even something small preserved from it ... _he could have gotten back just a caricature with everything that was making Harry, Harry, destroyed forever..._

Tom still couldn’t handle the thought; his mind was literally snapping contemplating those things.  
“Do you understand why I had to talk to you about it?” Diggory’s tentative voice barely managed to be heard due to the deafening noise in his head fuelled by his panic attack. It was far from the smartest thing that the Hufflepuff could have done under the circumstances.

Instantly Tom’s panic had transmuted into rage.  
... _If he had got there five minutes later he would have found Harry into Diggory’s arms.  
More, Diggory hadn’t denied Harry’s request _...

Tom grabbed Sam, threw him to the wall and started hitting with deadly precision. Only a wish to know everything stopped him from killing him.  
“What did you ask from Harry as a price to help him?” he demanded in his chilliest voice, holding Diggory on his feet by the neck, only a fraction before chocking him.

Tom could feel Harry’s protections flaring to life and battering him, but as long he didn’t use magic could ignore it. Punch line, he didn’t care. Harry had protected the Dursleys as well. - _For all he knew his lover may want to deal with the badger, himself, at a later day._

Sam looked at him with guiltless, slightly bulged, hazel eyes and Tom swore viciously as he could read his innocence, even without trying, _the badger had no shields whatsoever._ He still wanted to crush his throat for his daring, but he eased his grip and Sam coughed and started explaining with a strained voice.

“I-I s-swear o-on m-my m-magic t-that I d-didn’t a-ask a-anything f-from H-Harry, f-for m-my h-help, o-or e-even i-implied a-anything of t-the s-sort. I c-couldn’t h-help a-anyway; t-the m-ministry is t-too w-well g-guarded...” he confessed between more coughs, his trembling worse than ever. He leaned against the wall, clearly expecting either death or an extension to his torture.

Tom believed him.  
 _Oh,_ _he still wanted him dead, no question about it._ But the fact that he owed him Harry’s life, probably twice, made him quite reluctant.  
He decided on postponing the verdict for later. _There were far more important things at stake after all..._

“Still, it must be something,” he insisted, not leaving the badger a moment of comfort.  
“Harry was in an extreme rush at the time.” he couldn’t help twisting, cruelly, the knife.

Diggory looked bashful.  
“I,” he stretched the word, “couldn't help him in any way, but I overheard my father at the hospital talking with the head Auror about the looming attack in Nurmengard and how lifesaving it would be to them having people like you and Harry. I shared that information, Harry declined.”

A deep blush covered his cheeks, and he looked again down.  
“He asked me to not mention anything of this to you, but I couldn’t do it, not when I could see that he planned on attacking alone, I couldn’t...”

This time he looked beyond guilty, sick, for betraying Harry’s trust, but Tom had no wish, or inclination, to either absolve or berate him. His mind was busy creating schemes to fix the current mess, for he had little doubt that Harry was going to try again.

_His own insistence on staying at the Potters' was going to ensure that. (Never mind his excellent reasons for doing so) This attack, whenever it happened, could be the safer option under the circumstances (they could use the Aurors for cannon fodder) but he held lesser doubts about the elder Diggory’s less than pure motives._

Really, he should have seen that coming at the first mention that there wasn’t going to be a formal interrogation about the battle, but, obviously, he wasn’t at his best at the time. The natural step would have been for the Undersecretary to make his offer, or blackmail, at the informal questioning...

... _There was undoubtedly going to be some clues of them using dark arts, if not outright evidence...if they declined_...

But the estimable ministry worker was either overeager and clumsy, (the most probable explanation, for making his son privy to the information and even less allowing him to return at school, disregarding otherwise permission, after breaking his hand) or it was a trap, either of his making or Grindelwald’s.

...The key question was how to use any of those possibilities to his advantage. Tom was eager to start making a name at the Ministry as soon as possible, and the faster they ended with Grindelwald the better, but he was going to be dammed if he and Harry ended anyone’s pawns...

His eyes fell on the Diggory spawn. He hadn’t even felt his momentary shifted attention, lost to his guilt as he was. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was an authentic reaction or if Sam was in accordance with his father, _Leonard had surprised him after all._ Those bashful looks were near perfect at hiding from a legilimens probe and that fleeting openness could have been readily achieved with projection.

 _Either case one way to go...  
_ “When is that attack going to take place?” he asked impatiently now that he was certain of his course.

Diggory still kept his eyes down, almost neurotically so. Tom was almost certain of his guilt.  
“I don’t know for sure; in a month, or so.”

Tom’s nerves tested again.  
“Well, find out,” he ordered without restraint.

_If they were going to use their help he was sure as hell not going to pander on their idiotic limitations and rules._

“Tell your father that he better move fast and write me to hush the details. Grindelwald was critically wounded but it won’t last for long. He had better be ready in a week or so.”

Predictably, the comment made Diggory to finally raise his eyes to his perusal, but his reply was anything but predictable.  
“What? Aren’t you going to kill me?”

Tom managed a perfectly natural sounding laugh.  
“Should I?” _I wish!_ “If I killed Harry’s admirers...” he let it hang, although he would certainly far from mind it if most of them ended under the earth.

The problem was that he wasn’t going to kill Sam, _not for a long time, maybe never._ The second exam had confirmed it; the little bastard was innocent from his father’s machinations and his crush to Harry was strong enough to keep it that way and even go against his father if need to be. _He was going to be useful._

Hazel eyes turned pleadingly to him.  
“I don’t want to die, but I would prefer it to be from your hands than Harry’s.” he was sincere as it goes.

Tom couldn't help but gape.

... _He was either losing his touch or his world had gotten crazy when he returned with Harry..._  
“He is not going to kill you Diggory,” he tried to reason.  
... _that, or the entire Hogwarts population suffered from meningitis_...

Sam seemed to gather himself, and he regarded Tom with dignity.

“Please, Riddle, don’t lie about this; I have seen you both kill, in battle,” a shudder racked his body, “and I know what you two are.” a fortification of air, “I'm also familiar with the lore, and I betrayed him: twice, once directly against his orders. I know what to expect and I’d rather not see the disappointment in his eyes.”

Tom had enough of this drivel; two sharp arcs with his wand, a strong concentration on ‘Latente’ and dearest Sam went down, more dead than alive. His lips tightened as he watched the descent. There was no single doubt if it was a trap, not anymore. While the surface thoughts had been in accordance with the words and seemed completely natural, Diggory was neither sworn nor branded to expect something like that, not even from a dark family to follow such beliefs.

 _No, this was Imperio, Grindelwald or Dumbledore’s, handiwork. His first theory was right.  
_ He sighed and, after a few deadly boring minutes to insure that the ruse had been believed and the foreign influence mostly dispensed, set to work... _The things he did for Harry_...

The further he dug into Diggory’s unresponsive mind to free him the more he was impressed with the effort’s delicacy. Tom found faint traces of the German’s magical signature, but there wasn’t a specific order -  _other than to encourage them into taking part on the attack at a very later date_ \- or a main thread.

It was more to the lines of minuscule threads, hiding behind Sam’s feelings (and so making it impossible for Sam to fight it, even if he had the raw power, which he definitely didn’t) amplifying and emboldening them to the extreme, urging him to challenge Tom and get killed, and by doing so spread discordance between him and Harry.

_It was a clever plan; that much he could give._

It could have been sheer ingeniousness if Grindelwald had been in a state to use extended Legilimency, instead of just skimming and assuming. But he would have needed hours upon hours to make sure that Diggory wasn’t sworn to them, and it was barely five minutes to view his infatuation about Harry.

_Never mind that the dearest German Lord had personally seen Sam’s nearly insane rescue by a green eyed idiot..._

But there was still more to this, as - even with Grindelwald’s influence fading from his mind - a huge part of Sam’s devotion persisted, never mind that he defied his orders to the point of warning him instead of spurting some nonsense to inflame him. Tom had to reach the recesses of Sam’s mind to find the answer to this, and when he did he, finally, allowed himself to let go of the other’s mind. Not quite an effortless task as the Hufflepuff remained under his curse.

The moment he was completely untangled a wave of dizziness shook his whole being and the room started tilting. He had been an idiot and stayed far too long into the comatose mind, twenty minutes, maybe even closer to a half hour. Still even as he sat down to get his bearings back he couldn't help a pleased smile. The answer to the mystery was essentially coming down to:  _Sympathetic Magic!_

Having his answer, Tom started considering the implications, still amused and somewhat relieved.

Everything was making sense now, even the sudden shift to his behaviour, triggered by the Imperious and the badger’s own resolutions. Sam’s magic core had the same rare grey tinge as Harry’s and that fact would have been anything but pleasing, if said core wasn’t approximately a third to that of his beloved’s. If the power levels were anywhere near compatible he would have been a very legitimate antagonist for his affections. As it was, the effect to the Hufflepuff was far stronger than to Harry and was channelled as instinctual devotion to the Lord of the pair.

Not that there wasn’t any attraction, or that there weren’t other factors, but, even if their own bond and attachment wasn’t neutralising this naturally, that inequality was going to keep Harry away from the badger even if he was in love with him, _which he definitely wasn’t...  
(That was making it so elegant!)  
_ _...A few words explaining the pull’s significance and it will be over..._ Harry hated using his power over other people, and this would have been tantamount to touching a house elf, control wise...

...And the beauty wasn’t even ending there as, due to their bond, Diggory was getting, by extension, just as devoted to him, if only to a degree. It was proven with the way he had instantly approached him regarding Harry’s safety instead of trying to stop him by himself. It could have been argued that it was a matter of logic but he was sure that the subconscious played its part as well...

...No, Samuel Diggory was theirs just as surely as if he had sworn, or taken the mark, maybe more, due to his magic. Tom still hasn’t forgotten, never mind forgiven, the fact that Harry had contemplated spending his last night on earth in his arms, but he could learn to tolerate his presence, for the time being...

...He wanted to see the Undersecretary try to play them against such a weapon, even if his son was only that to the elder Diggory. Useful was going to be a mild word compared to what he was going to provide...

Tom inspected the unconscious, very pale face, of his ex-opponent, and a slow, diabolical, smile stretched his lips.  
With a flick of his wand he transfigured the body into a squirrel and put it into his pocket, disillusioning it for extra security. He had lost too much time here already, and they needed to work fast to undo Grindelwald’s work. Schemes upon schemes were created in his mind.

...But firstly he was so going to enjoy Harry’s expression...for a start...

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

_ **Harry’s pov** _

With the comprehension that he was indeed trapped inside the compartment, Harry exploded, both in words and magic, but unfortunately with the same ineffective result. Tom was already gone, so they couldn’t blister his ears _(although he couldn’t get away from the buzz of the mental counterpart, heh)_ and his magic, _no matter what he was throwing,_ was clashing to a wall of its own making.

_He had agreed to get marked, again after all, more willingly than before... he was such an idiot!_

But Harry wasn’t allowed to rage for a long time. Hermione’s too dry voice stopped him mid-rant.  
“Harry please, you know perfectly well that he is not going to leave permanent damage.”

That blasé attitude forced him to take notice; Hermione was neither naïve nor an airhead.  
“And how exactly do we know such things, Mione?” he questioned with more than a little sarcasm. He was still tense; all that anger couldn’t get expelled with a breath.

That seemed to cut Hermione, but she managed to continue none the less. At a closer glance, though, she wasn’t as confident as she sounded.  
“We know because I and the guys got away with the equivalent of a mere bad dream when it was obvious he wanted to crucio us.” she sounded like she was joking but it was anything but.

Harry felt terrible for snapping at her and wasn’t really surprised that she had a fairly good idea on what was really going on.  
 _How to apologise, right, though?_  
“Herm...” he started, wishing he was under the earth, but managing to look her at her eyes.

But Hermione didn't let him finish.  
“It’s alright, Harry, I understand, and I'm sorry too.” she blushed, tomato like.  
“So sorry for yesterday...It was my idea, but I was so worried...”

He was blushing horribly, now, too. Harry would have been much better if that incident was never mentioned again, _ever_ , and he certainly couldn’t lie and tell her that it was okay and then get even, _not to her_.  
She seemed to understand his dilemma and smiled reassuringly, moving on.

“Anyway, I knew that I would get away somewhat lighter, but I never dreamed that it would be all of us. That’s how I know that Sam will be alright,” Hermione almost gushed.  
“Because the deal was for friends and family, and he certainly stood as a friend for you yesterday.” she concluded, beaming.

Harry was stunned. This was much closer to the truth than he expected her to guess, even with her intelligence, but the only other source, Tom, would rather torture than tells her.

 _Still, he only wished to have her conviction on the matter...  
_ “How?”

Hermione smirked.  
“Tom. He threw it on my face when he realised that was incapable of throttling me.”

All the blood got straight to Harry’s head, upon hearing this, in a wave of red hot fury so hot it was truly overshadowing the previous one. “He...Did...WHAT?” _How dare he?_

Harry lost himself on his rage, and he surfaced only when he heard Hermione’s voice, panicked and somewhat distant.  
“Harry, Harry, calm down please.”

Gradually he became aware that Hermione wasn’t that far away; she was still beside him and rubbing his arms.  
“I’m going to kill him.” he insinuated very carefully.

“Harry, No, he didn’t hurt me, please... Come on, I will show you the memory.” she tried to placate.

Realising that she was still panicking, Harry forced himself to calm the hell down. His trembling eased, and he realised that the whole compartment had been shaking too. His eyes focused and he groaned. The place was once again a disaster area, even worse than before.  
Broken windows, the seats he transfigured and Tom’s fancy divan were broken into tiny bits. Only Hermione seemed to be alright.

_Thank God!_

He couldn't help a bitter chuckle at the irony that he was also grateful to Tom for sealing his magic inside the compartment.  
 _-There was no telling what kind of damage he could have done to the rest of the train, or even the students._

Hermione looked alarmed with his laugh, and he hastened to reassure her.  
“It's okay, I’m okay. The crisis is over.”

His dearest friend examined him critically and then with a broken:  
“Oh Harry!” she engulfed him in one of her trademark bear hugs, cutting his air supply almost completely and burst into tears.

Harry had a half irritated, half guilty, moment of _‘Not again!’_ but he squeezed it down.  
“I'm alright, now, Herm, truly. You said something about seeing the memory.”

He added the last part both because he wanted to witness it before making his mind if he was to hospitalize Tom and also to calm her. It worked like a charm. Hermione’s tears died down, and she was back to her endearing, bossy, self.  
“Alright, but let’s fix things here first.”

They worked fast, and in the minimum amount of time the compartment was pristine, just as they found it in the morning. Finally, when he was ready to complain with impatience, Hermione sat down and allowed him into the memory.

It was strange to see his closest people in a set all of their own, - _disconnecting_ \- especially because, even there, it was still centred around him not each other. _-That part was frankly daunting-_ For it became obvious, as he watched, that while their kiss was a calculated move by Tom (there was and a bit of guilty relief with that part) it was anything but from Hermione’s part, and that made her breaking move and her unwavering loyalty even more touching. Harry didn't know how to handle it except seeing the rest.

At the aforementioned scene he concluded that no, Tom wasn’t in for a beating, not that wasn’t deserving it, as he almost killed her. But he could see the unbearable, palpable tension he was under and more, the fact that it wasn’t a conscious spell he cast, but an involuntary outburst when he reached the end of his tether. He wasn’t blameless but wasn’t out to kill her either and she had been baiting him on, Harry understood that and could accept it _...Still a nasty surprise, or two, or three, at the next training session wouldn’t go amiss..._

...Mostly he was grateful to their old pact that had saved her; _if only he was sure that the deal, alone, was going to work for a second time_...

Seeing Hermione falling apart with the news on his behalf was unbearable, _somehow worse that today_ , probably due to that note of pure despair, and it was killing him. Also to see Tom so _unnerved_ in front of others, _her of all people_ , took his breath away.  
 _Harry didn’t know that he could find himself so despicable..._

The emotional roller coasted stopped for a moment as they reached the list of possible remedies that were discarded, positively vile. Harry felt pure relief and gratitude at Hermione for her insistence to the Stone. _He wasn’t sure that he could have handled something worse..._

But the madness continued, all the way to the conclusion. The look of Hermione’s face, smiling quietly to her room while Tom destroyed their common office wasn’t funny, no matter the absurdness of the situation. Harry didn’t know if he was more moved to tears from her devotion or blinded with rage with her persistence. Frankly he didn't expect her to go that far...

Baiting on Tom again and again, she honestly had no idea how close to death she had got, multiple times. But he had seen it clearly, at the final challenge at least, his partner was incensed enough that he had considered killing her, consequences be damned. He sent a deep prayer of thanks for his beloved’s unshakable self control.

Harry broke from her mind almost violently and didn’t dare to open his mouth, for a long time, out of fear that he was going to shout at her until his throat closed, or worse. It wasn’t that that he didn't love her for what she had done, but not even having Tom was worth of her life,  _couldn't Hermione see that?_

“Harry?” she probed at him gently when she recovered from the revived memory.  
“Are you alright?”

 _That was it_. Harry let go.  
“Me? You were the one that could have died ten times over. I don’t deserve that.”

Hermione’s hand came to her lips, and she looked at him in utter horror, but didn't cry. The same hand moved, blindly fast, impacting his cheek with a loud crack. Harry looked at her astonished. That had hurt, but more than the tiny hurt he didn't expect such an outburst, and she hadn't even finished yet...

“Harry James Potter!” she screeched. “How dare you to think that it’s alright for you to sacrifice yourself without regard, to the point of leaving nothing, but it’s a crime for me to want to put right the humiliation you brought me. What kind of friend does that makes you? I didn't deserve that treatment either,” she shouted, making her displeasure utterly clear, and burst again into tears, like her heart was breaking.

Harry froze with this. Her words had stung, as had her tears, but he had no idea that she had taken his actions at such a personal level, or that he had hurt her to that extent, and he had even less of an inclination on what to do.

 _Wrong, he kind of did_.

Feeling ten times more awkward than before, he took her in his arms, initiating it for the first time, and started rocking her.  
“Shh, Hermione, shh, I didn't do it to humiliate you, I swear, I thought that Tom liked you and that I was doing the right thing.” he rocked her some more.

Hermione sniffed some more at his neck and finally raised her head and glared at him with her puffy eyes.  
“I know you didn’t, but it still hurt - _a lot-_  and I know you too, so I should have been expecting it, but did you have to be such a bloody excellent actor that it was all but impossible to spot the lying?”

Harry winced at the language, when Hermione reached the point of expletives things were bad.  
“I know it’s not much, but I promise to do my very best to never lie to you again.” he offered.

It was a testament at how different people they were, now in the past, for Hermione nodded, tensely, accepting it as the best compromise he could give. - _Still there was something more_...

“Hermione,” he started out nervously, for this probably deserved another slap, but he needed to know.  
“How did you figure things, if I was that good?” he braced himself.

Surprisingly she neither shouted nor slapped him, didn’t even look angry and merely smirked. Harry had the very disconnecting thought that Hermione had spent an inordinate rate of time with Tom...  
“Your eyes. They lose their veneer of detachment when you are drunk and show absolutely everything...Told you that alcohol wasn’t good for you.”

The last part was almost offensively patronising, but so Hermione, that he couldn’t help but laugh and thank his lucky stars that he still had her with him. _What was he going to do in a world without Hermione?  
_ “Thanks!” he told her, meaning everything.

Hermione had laughed with him, looking relieved, but at the end of it regarded him very seriously.  
“We both have many things to make right with each other,” she informed him in a no nonsense voice.

He was ready to disagree and take the whole blame on himself but the glint in her eyes stopped him.  
 _H_ _e would rather hear her and fix things between them than try to half argue and take another slap.  
_ “Indeed.” Harry braced himself for an apology that he considered vastly unnecessary.

His ready agreement took her aback, for a moment, but then she started talking, fast.  
“I shouldn’t have lied to myself so that I could date Tom. I hurt you.”

Harry’s eyes widened. He had been expecting an apology for lying to him the previous month, but she was taking it too far.  
“You did nothing wrong. You were in love, and I didn't feel anything of the sort until very recently.” he protested vehemently, hoping with everything he had that his past tense had been correct.

That seemed to really anger Hermione.  
“So it was okay because you were in denial?”

Harry hated that question – whether it held some truth or not it was pointless for him, nor did he want to explore it in any way.

But before he could tell her to mind her own business _(for probably the first time in his life)_ she continued talking even faster than before.  
“And no, it wasn’t nearly the same thing; I was infatuated with a mask, though sometimes a thin one. You fell -hard- for the real thing. I learned the difference quite clearly the last month.”

While there was a part of Harry that understood and agreed with the distinction, he was more concerned with the last statement.  
“Did he hurt you?” he asked, putting his hand on her shoulder.

“He didn’t,” she assuredly told him. Harry couldn’t help a disbelieving look; he didn't like her weary tone.  
“But you did,” she continued sharply, shaking his hand off.  
“You hurt me when you decided to leave me, choosing to die.” Harry recoiled.

This was getting worse than her tears.  
“Hermione?” he tried.

She cut him with a wide gesture.

“That nearly destroyed me, but you know what hurt me even more? That you never intended to let me help you... I was dying with guilt from lying to you, but it wouldn’t have mattered. The moment you realised the problem, it was over. It never even crossed your mind to ask my help.” she pretty much shouted the last part.

Harry just couldn’t bear her wide, hurt, eyes and had no choice but to look down.  
This discussion was as unbearable as the similar one he had with Tom, maybe worse, because he could fill the blanks to what she wasn’t saying.  
 _He would have left her here – virtually alone – in a time not her own, at the mercy of a – at the very least – potentially unstable person with only a simple oath as her mere protection. If things had gotten a little different she would have been lucky if she died fast_...

“You are right, Hermione.” he forced himself to meet her eyes.  
“I was thinking of nothing but myself, but I couldn’t handle the thought of hurting, of murdering, someone.” he still couldn’t.

Hermione examined his face.  
“Of course you wouldn’t.” she smiled tenderly but then hit him upside the head.  
“You weren’t thinking, that’s for sure. Tell me, Harry, how many angry outbursts did you have?”

Harry rubbed the place she had hit, understanding what she was getting at but disagreeing with her.  
“There were four episodes before Leonard and one after, but they were minor ones in comparison.” he admitted.

Hermione’s eyes flashed in triumph.  
“Let’s see, Lestrange’s execution, which you didn't kill. The battle at Halloween, at Walburga’s accusation and later at her torture, and about six minutes before, right?”

Harry didn’t see a reason for that look.  
“Yes, that’s right, but I don’t see anything to be pleased,” he groused.  
“I was completely messed up.”

Hermione smiled.  
“Indeed, but you didn’t kill anyone, not even caused terrible damage.” she was laying it too thick...

“Not killing? Where you were at the battle, Hermione?” he wasn't regretting his actions, then, and would undoubtedly repeat them, but now, that he knew the score, he was far from willingly blind either.

Hermione turned faintly green at the reminder but continued with the same enthusiasm.  
“It was a battle,” she protested, “and while you turned a little bit berserker, you didn't hurt any student — the total opposite.”

Harry wanted to believe her, but he didn't dare.  
“What about Leonard? He could have died, or even you, a few minutes before. And what about Lestrange or Walburga?” he pointed out.  
Hermione was far from daunted.

“The worst thing that happened to Leonard was a couple broken ribs and a couple teeth. As for his bruises, he was so artlessly offensive that I punched him too.” she smiled. “Regarding Lestrange and Walburga now, even then, as I remember, you weren’t lost in your anger, and even now your magic may have seemed uncontrollable, but I don’t have a scratch on me... What do you think about that?” she gifted him with her smuggest smile.

Harry didn't know what to think. Hermione, the most logical of them all, was making light of this when Tom never dared to.  
 _He knew better, of course_...  
“So you think me harmless?” he teased.

The smile was gone and she was dead serious again.  
“Nothing further from the truth; you are not exactly the boy I met at first year, and you have issues, but I know, _I know_ , that you can control this...”

Harry’s neck was closing; he  _couldn't believe that she still believed in him so much_...  
“Hermione...” he started.

She didn't allow him to thank her.  
“Anyway, you owe me after that month of hell...”  
...it looked like a smirk on her...

“You told me that he didn’t hurt you?” he almost growled. She rolled her eyes again.

“He didn’t. That doesn’t mean that he didn’t make my life extremely difficult, or that I didn’t hated him for forcing my silence – and even more so because he was right – but I think I have started to see a bit beyond his masks and genuinely like him as a person too. Tom may seem a beyond obsessive tyrant, most of the time, not to forget psychopath, but he honestly impressed me, and not only with his brilliance. He loves you, he really, truly, does! I hadn’t seen it to the true degree before, and I’m considering him a friend, if only for that.”

Harry stared at her, trying to come to terms with what he was hearing. It looked like Hermione had got into terrible trouble just to help him, but her supportive little speech and, even more, her outright reverent tone stunned him to silence.  
 _His oldest friend sounded even more passionate than the time she confessed to him that she fancied Tom._

He would have suspected her for overcompensating on getting him over, and felt guilty about it, but he had been to her mind and -amazedly so- knew better- _even before that if he was completely honest.  
_ But the meaning of her words weren’t the only alarming thing present, and the question burst out almost reflexively.

“Why?”

Inwardly he cringed for putting it out bluntly like that, but he really needed an answer... _In more than one ways_...  
Hermione had spoken about friendship, but her whole attitude was more reminiscent, by far, to that of a follower. Nothing Lestrangey, that much for sure, but definitely more subservient than before... Some form of comradeship he could understand, but this was getting way too far. What the hell had Tom done to win her devotion like that? Harry couldn’t help but be suspicious.

He feared the worst. _What if he hadn't won it?_

The use of an Unforgivable, even Imperious, went very much into the harm category, and he certainly hadn’t met traces of the curse into her mind. But simpler curses, of the persuasion type, weren't necessarily so, and it wasn't violating the oath. Especially if he hadn’t put her in danger or, even less, used her against him.

Hermione understood what he was doing and allowed him; she didn’t mind his terseness, or faux pas, and got right to the heart of the matter.

“Harry, I can manage twelve, maybe thirteen hours of solid research when needed. He managed sixteen, eighteen, and sometimes twenty almost daily for a month. He dislikes coffee, yet drank gallons of it, not to mention much stronger potions. I really had no idea to the extent of his devotion to you.”

Harry looked at her, petrified, having no clue, _as in at all,_ on what to say. He had been so concerned for Hermione that he had used Legilimency to ascertain her mental shape, and so he ended not only hearing about it but seeing glimpses to the memories going with it. Tom had hinted of such activities, of course, but it wasn't even covering a tenth of it.

_And when the hell had Tom started to understate his actions?_

_He couldn’t deal with what he felt with such revelations, not now; it went too deep; he would end an emotional mess._ The only way he could handle it, for the moment, was by shoving it aside and firming his resolve to put a stop in the madness. Nothing else worked...

It also helped that his fears had been appeased and there hadn't been any mental tampering whatsoever. The startling change was all due to Hermione’s penchant to follow authority figures, usually worthy teachers. So to transfer it on Tom wasn’t completely preposterous under the circumstances, or even completely alarming at a second thought. That approach was certainly going to keep her out of his lover’s ire until he could manage to get her away. Or his dearest friend could even choose to stay and even get marked, but Harry was extremely ambivalent at the possibility and very reluctant to really consider it until he had to.

Still, he had stayed silent and brooding for far too long. Hermione looked like she had started to worry.  
“Thank you!” he told her, taking her hand, not to mollify her, but because he needed to. Tom may have started the whole endeavour, but she had been there all the way. It was never going to be enough for everything she had done for him, but it was all he could do right now.

Hermione understood.  
“Shh, no need for that.” she told him gently, squeezing his hand and letting it go.

Harry relaxed.

“You also have my apologies on Tom’s behalf,” - _which he was never going to personally give, but Harry needed to anyway.  
_ “I should have known that he would make your life difficult...” the light tone was indication that while he was serious about this topic there weren’t going to be any more outbursts.

Hermione was ready to play along.  
“You certainly know the man you married.” she put it dryly.  
“But don’t worry, when I could I paid him back.” her tone was light as his and she underlined it with a rather unusual, for her, cheeky smile.

That comment really blindsided Harry, who got truly tongue tied and tomato red.  
“W-we are engaged not married,” he managed to utter.

Hermione’s smile grew.  
“This is a wedding band, not a promise ring, and you two are certainly acting more married than many couples I knew.” she pointed out.

As Harry had no intention whatsoever to indicate what truly cemented a marriage, rather than an engagement, he hastily changed the topic.  
“Too much like Minerva’s, that smile!” he remarked teasingly. “How did you repay Tom anyway?” he continued, more than curious.

He had no fear of it being something truly nasty, both because if it was Tom would have retaliated badly on it, oath or not, but also because Hermione dared to brag to him about it.

Hermione allowed it, without a single tease, too pleased with herself and her success.  
“Thank you! She has such a wicked humour. I really like her, more than any dorm-mate, Gryffindor or Ravenclaw.” seeing his impatience, she smiled again, a cat like smile. _She was doing it intentionally!_

“As for Tom, it was only small things, irritating him here and there, whenever I could get away with it, but the true revenge was at the hospital... I've noticed that he has a huge aversion on being touched, except if it’s you, ...so...”

Harry couldn’t help it; he burst in hysterical laughter with the remembrance. He had noticed that something had been strange that day, but to have it confirmed as prank just took the cake. _It had been a bit sadistic, but not harmful, and Tom certainly deserved it that day.  
_ “That was intentional?” he asked, not for affirmation but just so that he could enjoy it more.

Hermione sent him her smuggest smile still and nodded.  
“Do you remember his face?” this time they lost it together, holding their bellies and sharing laugh after laugh at Tom’s expense.

“That was amazing and took guts!” he admitted when he managed to regain his breath.

Hermione beamed at him.  
“I’m still Gryffindor,” she told him proudly.

“I know.” and at that moment he certainly did.   
But the returning of their (recently rare) camaraderie and his gratitude for the countless things she had done for him made him want to offer something even remotely close to substantial to what she did.

“The deal wasn’t only about friends and family...” he confessed.  
 _There was no need for Hermione to not find out the rest, she had figured out enough, and he was going to deal with the fallout if need be._

She looked at him burning with curiosity.  
“But that was already a lot.” she tried very hard to not make it sound like a question.

“Indeed, but the deal was a bit more substantial...” Harry bit his lips to keep his smile and waited a few moments, knowing she was dying to hear this, finally he continued.  
“...like, for everyone that I care about...” he was a bit apprehensive for Tom’s incoming bitching, but it was too late to back off, and he didn’t want it anyway.

Hermione’s eyes and mouth became round from pure shock.  
“It can’t be,” she whispered, “you tend to care for the whole world.”

Harry blushed.  
“I know.”

Hermione burst into hysterical laugher again.  
“Merlin, you got him tied in knots!”

Harry laughed too, by her turn of phrase, knowing that Ron would have used something far more colourful and obscene. Their eyes met with that mutual knowledge, and they shared a moment of silent contemplation for their absent friend.  
“He’s got me just as tied, and not only with oaths,” he admitted, not even knowing why he did.

 _Maybe it was the moment, but more likely just needed her back to the way it was_.  
Hermione just nodded to him in encouragement, understanding that he needed to talk.  
“...and it’s not even like the oath is completely binding.”

“How so? What were the parameters?” she asked, obviously both wanting to learn and wishing to help him.

“It’s not so about the parameters themselves, those were proven almost airtight, but I was a hormonal idiot yesterday night and allowed a window. If someone flirts with me and I flirt back, the other’s life is forfeit.” no reason to add the grim details, or the fact that he wasn’t sure if Sam fit the bill or not.

He couldn’t have found an unluckiest moment to ponder on this. Suddenly his head was assaulted with wave after wave of hot pain as the occlumency barriers were crushed, and the only thing he could feel, for a moment, was the extent of Tom’s tremendous rage.  
Harry barely held himself from collapsing, and he would have been sick if he didn’t have an empty stomach.

“Harry, what’s wrong? Please tell me. Is it Tom? Did he...did he use the window you told me?” her voice was trembling, and she didn’t dare to use the exact words.

He could feel Hermione’s cold hands stroking his face. It helped, and a moment later the link was again completely cut, but that was even worse. That one moment had been enough to learn the reason for the explosion, to feel Tom’s panic and fury. Harry would have avoided that for Sam,  - _if only he had confessed_. He put his head between his legs until he calmed down and tried again for the binding on the door. It was even more reinforced; there was no way that he could leave the compartment.

“Harry?” Hermione was sounding again almost hysterical. “Harry... how bad are things... what kind of curses... Do I need to get there?” she fired rapidly.

That snapped Harry fast. _No_ _matter what happened to Sam, it was not worth Hermione’s life._  
“No curses, fists.” he admitted.

Something white on the floor caught his eye; it was singed on the edges but undamaged. Even conflicted as he was he couldn’t crumble it, so he folded it carefully and put it into his inner pocket without looking at it.

Hermione had relaxed, and sat back to her seat like there was nothing wrong.  
“That’s alright then.”

Harry goggled at her, _was she mad?_  
“Nothing wrong? I almost passed out from the strength of his anger, and I had been used to far worse shit from Voldemort. Now tell me what’s wrong?” he ranted.

Hermione, irritatingly, remained completely calm.  
“Do you remember how Ron was against Michael Corner and Zacharias Smith? Only by sheer luck he didn’t get detentions. It’s a completely natural reaction, and at least it’s just fists. Let him get it out of his system. Sam is going to be alright after a couple potions.”

Logically he knew that she was right _, -his magic had stopped bothering him, meaning that Tom had eased somewhat; but then again his partner was unpredictable, and Sam was merely an excuse at this point_... _and yet_ , something to her words was smarting as well...  
“I'm not a girl though.”

Hermione glared.  
“Idiot, did you think that I liked it then? And this is Tom, what did you expect? Though you don’t have much room to talk, he may have promised Minerva to throw her of the stairs if she dared touching you, but I remember what you did to Lestrange.”

Harry blushed, chastised. _She was again right, on both counts, he was inconsiderate, and even if they had remained platonic friends he doubted that Tom would have allowed him a lover,_ certain facts were proving it so, no matter how it galled.  
“Wait, what? I didn’t hurt Lestrange for this, I’m not even sure that I felt that way, then.”

Hermione’s eyes became very penetrative just then, understanding things he didn’t wanted her to, things that even he wasn’t sure he understood, or that he even wanted to. But she didn’t pressure him.  
“Alright, back to Sam’s matter. He may be safe, or maybe not, but I remember that Tom promised his life if you talked to me about something.”

Harry took a couple deep breaths to steady his nerves.

“I’m sure that you are aware that a political career is not openly compatible with our lifestyle, especially now.” he started, feeling like a jerk. He really didn’t want to have that discussion, but he didn’t have a choice, not really. Not only for Sam’s safety, but because he had, even reluctantly, agreed to the deal.

Hermione continued for him. She didn’t look overtly pleased but neither surprised.  
“I know, I have been wondering what you were going to do about that specific problem. I assume that Tom wants me as the public female presence in his life to avoid the rumours.” it wasn’t a question, and while the tone was matter of fact she sounded somewhat resigned.

Harry felt lower than dirt.  
“Indeed. I’m sorry, Mione. He took yesterday as a betrayal and was furious, but you can take a research post in the continent if you prefer. I won’t have you forced into this.”

Hermione bit her lower lip, looking indecisive.  
“I want to help you, Harry, really, and I believe in your political ideas, but I don’t know. Certainly I don’t want to leave. My life is here, but I don’t want to marry Tom either, even just as a total cover.”

Harry freaked out with the mere idea.

“Who said anything about marrying him, like I would have allowed it to go that far?” he shouted, almost with everything in his lungs, and then forced himself to calm down.  
“You’ll only need to play his girlfriend, or fiancée, for a decade or so, other than that you will be completely free.”

Hermione’s lips tugged upwards with his display.  
“Really, that’s only? Then maybe I will be able to help, though I will need to really think about it and talk with Zev...”

Harry looked at her in shock, reading far more than teasing to this.  
“You really don’t have to,” he told her hastily. “If you don’t want to leave the country I will persuade Tom to leave you alone.”

_There must certainly be something else he will want in trade._

“Just please don’t drop it for a while longer, just to avoid the immediate gossip. We’ll be alright afterwards...” _it was selfish, but he would rather not become the talk of the school, again, if he could help it._

“Harry,” she said, half fondly half exasperated.  
“It wasn’t a ‘No’...”

Harry was starting to panic.  
“You are actually considering it?” he voiced his thoughts almost thoughtlessly.

Hermione was starting to look irritated, but she suppressed it with a sigh.

“Harry,” she started again patiently, but it didn't last. “I don’t like the monolithic mindset that makes such actions necessarily, but it exists, and I want to help you, yet, you obviously don’t want it, which is also very reasonable under the circumstances.” _he definitely didn't like that resigned tone._ “You have kept your word and talked to me, so can we drop it, now, please?” the last part sounded sad and oddly tired.

Harry gaped at her, totally embarrassed; Hermione had nailed it to the head. He had no true intentions to convince her, but her apparent assumption, that he was doing it because he didn’t trust her around Tom, was far from acceptable as well. While it had the undeniable positive of stopping her from getting marked, which was definitely going to happen if she’d agree to cover them, it would also slowly annihilate their friendship and their newly reconstructed bridges.

He was undoubtedly again monstrously selfish but he couldn’t bear it to lose her.  
“No, I’m not exactly sanguine about it, but I swear it’s not because it is you. Won’t you have a problem with Zevi about it, anyway?” he hastily changed the topic, hopefully dodging the bullet.

Hermione didn’t look completely alright with his reassurance, but she did him the favour of taking the bait.

“I’ve already told you that I will have to talk to him, but I think he will be alright with it. We have been talking, and Zevi had hinted that something like that was in the cards for the two of you.” her brows furrowed even more.  
“I haven’t thought anything of it, then, but in hindsight, maybe he was warning me.

Harry wasn't expecting something like that.  
“You talked about me and Tom with Zev, when?” even as he asked he felt like an idiot.

 _Their friends always talked about them, and Mione was no exception, but still, she talked like they had been together in forever, when in truth, extremely close friendship and how intimate they had gotten aside, they hadn't even kissed before yesterday_.

Hermione had the grace to blush.

“Six days ago, but it’s not like you think. I couldn't stand the deception anymore, and he guessed enough. I ended venting to him and we talked afterwards.” she smiled somewhat bashfully for a moment, looking very vulnerable.  
“I trust him.” the last small sentence had more meaning in it than all the gushing together she had done for Tom and his knowledge.

Suddenly Harry felt very much like he was intruding and way guilty.  
“I'm sorry, Mione.”  
She smiled gently at him.

“It’s alright; I've stuck my nose in your business, too, to a much stronger degree.” her eyes turned sharp.  
“Speaking of which, what is your true problem with accepting my help, if it’s indeed not due to jealously?” she dared to openly ask.  
“Does it have anything to do with the parchment inside your pocket?”

Harry was like a deer in the highlights.  
How?” he asked stunned, - _she was beyond intelligent and knew him a great deal, but this went too far. She had no link inside his head.  
_ Hermione smiled like she had just passed an early NEWT with flying colours.

“It was just a guess, but I found it strange that you trashed the place and it remained untouched. Also, the way you hesitated and yet preserved it was a dead ringer that it was from Tom.” a quick look to confirm her success, and she continued with more confidence.  
“Whatever your problem may be, it’s always comes back to Tom. May I...? If it’s not too personal,” she asked and then corrected with a heavy blush.

Feeling half like he was trapped and half like it was inevitable, Harry showed her the painting.  
Hermione’s face lighted in delight at seeing the artwork.  
“How beautiful!”

Something savage had started clawing inside Harry. _He had tried so hard to keep her away from this but she kept insisting.  
_ “Do you find it pretty enough to want it etched on your forearm?” he asked dryly and without any preamble.

“W-what?” it was Hermione’s turn to stutter.  
Harry didn't spare his words, both because he was pissed, but mostly to make her understand.

“Do you want to get marked, Hermione? To have Tom ordering you around, probably 24/7 without respite, for the rest of your life. To be able to punish you, hurt you, with the drop of a hat? To be, in a sense, his slave?” seeing her frozen expression, he softened his voice.  
“I don’t want that for you, my friend, and so you will have to leave to stay free.”

Hermione looked like she regained her wits and examined his face.  
“Harry,” she started confidently, “nothing will convince me that you could leave your friends, or anyone truly, simply to Tom’s fancy, even with the handy oath, and this is not the dark mark, so tell me again why I need to leave?”

Harry closed tightly his eyes, for a moment, _he should have known that she would get right to the heart of the matter.  
_

“No, it's not the dark mark; it is going to be the joined mark. But while I agreed with Tom’s valid points to its necessity and will definitely ease things, as much I can, it will still put a lid on your free choices.” he decided to open his cards completely.  
“You are the only friend I can save, Hermione. The guys signed their lives years ago, and Leonard and Minerva are oath bound to me, so please, please.” his checks tinged red with the last admittance.

Hermione’s eyes had softened so much that he wished that he could hide under the seat.  
“Harry, this means the world to me, but the decision is long taken.” she opened the first button of her shirt, tugging the delicate chain to bring forth her pendant.

It was Harry’s time to freeze. With the pendant out in the open, it was impossible to miss the magic emanating from it in waves, even with the shielding. Tom had been brutally truthful, but he had been far too anxious, then, to get the true meaning. The tiny jewel was indeed modelled after his mark, in more than one ways.

He let out a heavy expletive.  
“Harry...language!” Hermione was scowling like a teacher.

Harry’s cheek started to tick.  
“Are you out of your bloody mind? Tom, the bastard, forced this on you and you are concerned about my bloody language?” he shouted, and he didn’t even need to add that he was going to kill him.

Hermione forced him back to his seat.  
“Harry, listen to me now and listen very carefully. I took the pendant, and I'm going to take the mark very willingly. Do you know why?”

Harry wanted to hit his head at a wall from sheer frustration, no ambiance to his feelings this time. He was bloody murderous.  
“Because you are an awesome friend,” it sounded more like an insult, “and probably don’t want to leave Zev.” almost as an afterthought.

Hermione didn’t flinch with his tone and continued regarding him calmly.  
“I will follow you to hell and back, that hasn’t changed since our first year, and I truly intend to stay with Zevi, but it’s not for that, not really, or precisely not only.” she took a deep breath and continued.

“Our society is stagnant; I fully intend to help you and Tom to fix that. There is direct need to bring the magical world into the right century and parallel achievements. More, I know that both of you have the best of intentions but someone needs to fight for the rights of the muggle parents to their children. You may both have gotten the short stick, regarding your upbringing, but that doesn’t mean that every muggleborn’s home will be abusive and certainly not to forget their continuous right to the muggle world...”

With every word passing from her lips Harry’s anger diminished more and more.  
 _Good old Hermione and her causes!_ _They were definitely going to need her in their political campaign.  
_ But he was finally allowing himself to get Tom’s point and his need to mark her. If she remained unchecked there was a very good possibility that they would end political opponents, and with him around Tom would have to use but the most restrained of methods to deal with her.

He smiled.  
“You know of course that Tom will have fits with the way you expressed your ideas if not the ideas themselves?” he was only half joking.

Hermione smiled back.  
“More likely to die from heart attack at his twenties and then rise again to torture and murder me,” she wasn’t joking too.  
“Even with taking the mark, I’m fully expecting to hide behind you.” she looked at him earnestly.

He nodded his agreement; he was definitely going to protect her.  
“Why on earth you weren't resorted to Slytherin?” he couldn't help but ask.

Hermione smirked.

“It was an option, together with Ravenclaw, but for all that I wanted to stay close to you I wanted a breather from Tom too. Not to mention, that you first got his attention because of your sorting, a little underestimation wouldn't go amiss and it paid. I had mostly peace and quiet for almost six months.” she admitted.

Harry was delighted; it was amazing to see a new facet to his dearest friend.  
“Tell you what, if your plans are not too extreme, you can count on my backing.” he stipulated as well.

Hermione crossed her arms.  
“Harry James Potter, there is nothing too extreme with my ideas! You’d noticed that I used parallel achievements, not acquaintance with muggle technology. There is nothing that says that we can’t achieve the same or better with magic.”

Harry admired her logic and was with her all the way to this, but he couldn’t help but tease her a bit.  
“I don’t know, Herm, spew was rather extreme.”

Hermione made an inarticulate sound of frustration.  
“It was S.P.E.W. and I was kid, although you must admit that some elves definitely need or desire to get free.”

“I know.” Harry knew that this kind of distinctions was going to make her a truly brilliant politician. _They had gone far, the both of them, and he was so happy that he had her, in addition to Tom, to catch his mistakes!_ The question was if things were going to last long enough to truly make a difference in the world.

“Harry?” Hermione’s tone was sharp. “What’s wrong?”

Harry’s eyes snapped up, his first instinct was to tell her that nothing was wrong, but even she knew him enough to never fall for it. So he decided on some form of the truth.  
“I just wondered if we’ll truly manage to change the world.”

Hermione examined him very carefully.  
“I would believe you if you didn’t have the specific expression that shouts Tom-problem.” her lips tightened.  
“You promised to avoid lying. If you can’t do that, say nothing.”

Harry couldn’t help but blush.  
“It’s kind of personal.” he hedged.

Hermione tried to look patient without much success.  
“I remember telling you my every problem with Ron, and I assume that Ron did the same about me. Hell, in the start of term I was badgering you about Tom too, so don’t tell me about too personal. You need to vent too.”

Harry tried for some control.  
“Have you bothered to think that I may not be comfortable confessing such things to a girl?” he asked icily, dropping any pretence.

Hermione crossed her arms, again, looking twice as intimidating.  
“And you will confide to whom? Sam? Tom will kill him for certain. Zev? He will hear you, but die from embarrassment. Alphard? He will tease you to death, and I don’t even want to know what kind of scheme Brax will come up with...”

Harry felt like he wanted to die. He was sure that no torture, devised by Tom, _or even Voldemort at his most deranged,_ could ever be compared to this. He cursed him feverishly for imprisoning him in the compartment; _it looked like hospitalisation was once again in Tom’s future_...  
“Maybe I just don’t need to confide in anyone. Drop it, Hermione,” he almost hissed.

Hermione just looked at him in a weird mix of compassion and pity.  
“Oh Harry, everyone needs it, even Tom. He kept muttering about your recklessness and idiocy between researches, that’s venting. What could be so horrible that you will keep it to yourself at all costs?” oddly, her face turned ashen then ruby and back to ashen, by her own question.

She put her hands to her mouth, looking ready to pass out.  
“Please forgive me, Harry, I won’t pester you anymore. I understand, he had told me, but he loves you, so it didn't even cross my mind. I swear I won’t bring up the matter never, ever, again.” she rambled some more.

Harry was pretty sure that she was mistaken. He knew perfectly well Tom’s methods to vent, and he could bet serious money that this was one of Tom’s masks and tricks to get her all the more under his influence. But as Hermione progressed he got more and more uncomfortable. It took him a moment to recall the exact memory and then he didn’t want just to die, but to take her with him to hell too.

_Tom wasn't going to kill her if he got there first._

But as he was preparing to strike her with the nastier curse he could think, he saw only massive misery, deep concern and worry for him in her eyes, nothing else. His anger died out, just like that.  
“It’s not what you think, Herm, it’s much more complicated,” he found himself confessing.

Hermione regarded him just as solemnly.  
“Do you want to talk about it?” this time the question was put delicately, instead of pushy. She had understood perfectly how close to death she had got.

Strangely, now that he had started, Harry wanted to tell her. _Maybe that was going to get them to something equal with before_ , _and just as strangely he felt that she had won the information, almost, with her life.  
_

“There is not a single problem, or any doubt that he wants me, concerning our private moments,” he admitted with a heavy blush.   
“The problem is that he doesn't seem exactly pleased with that fact, and yet keeps doing those extravagant gestures, exposing himself publicly, which proves that he hadn't made his mind, yet, and I have no true idea at how to deal with it.” his fear of losing everything almost open to his voice.

Hermione looked like she ate something too big to chew and was so red that he was surprised that she hadn't passed out yet. But still, she valiantly tried to help him.  
“Are you sure that his reactions go that far?”

Harry was seriously regretting opening his mouth, but, as he had already started, he dug out his Gryffindor courage and continued.

“Yes, I'm sure. He had been a total jerk to me, in the morning, for daring to start things,” he told her, looking out of the window.  
“He barely lets me touch him, even casually, and when he starts things himself he freezes in all but a few moments.” _the train’s floor had an interesting pattern too..._

“Hmm.”

Harry raised his eyes; Hermione was still red but marginally more calm and relaxed too.  
“I don’t disagree with your opinions, Harry. You know Tom most of all anyway. But when was the last time you inspired in him a strong emotional response and didn’t react with a hissy fit to end all hissy fits?” she smiled at him encouraging.

It was like a light bulb lighting slowly.  
“Never,” he admitted, and it was like a soft wave of relief.

But it was his own reactions that were troubling him now.  
It was nowhere that simple but the connection was there.  
 _He should have seen it. Why didn’t he?_

Unbeknownst to his own thoughts Hermione’s smile was stretching.

“See, you just need to talk with Tom about this. Forget me; it’s when the two of you don’t talk that things get haywire. I’m sure that things will turn out okay.” another encouraging smile.  “Also, I wouldn’t be so anxious about his open gestures. I hadn’t connected the dots before, but don’t you find it strange that not even a single Slytherin girl was found in a situation that could permit you to ask her out, not to mention all the others. I’m pretty sure that Amelia’s tattling wasn’t the only reason for your dry spell all those months.” a firm nod.

Harry was in total agreement with her, in hindsight looked pretty much confirmed but it wasn't helping him now.

“I don’t know, Mione,” he found himself saying. “I don’t know what to do with any of this. Before, there was this tiny part of me that could stay distant and just observe; now I don’t have even that. He took everything. I feel so out of control, and I haven’t a single idea on what to do with him, or myself.” _he had no idea why he was saying it too._

Hermione got again that deeply penetrative look, _he didn’t like it one bit._  
“So I was right. You didn’t allow yourself to fall for Tom but when you were absolutely sure that it was going to remain unrequited. You were nowhere near ready and had no intention at all for a relationship.”

Hermione’s words hit him like a sledgehammer of truth _._

_It wasn't just that he preferred to see Tom in a relationship with another before facing his feelings; he had literally written himself for dead before admitting them, even to himself. He had always considered that a relationship between them was doomed unless they were ready and he was right, but it wasn't Tom, it was him!_

He started laughing hysterically.  
“We are fucked!” another fast slap came right to his cheek, and it sobered him immediately.  
“Hermione!” he almost bellowed.

She looked at him serious as a grave.  
“There is not a true reason to panic. Calm down.”

He looked at her like she had changed places with Luna.  
 _If that wasn't a reason to panic, what was it?_

She kept her cool.  
“Alright, you were not exactly ready but, even now that you know, do you love him, or want him, any less? Do you believe that you were better off as friends?”

Harry examined himself, and she was right his feelings were still there, probably stronger than ever, now that he had admitted how far reaching they were, but her last question was just as pointed.

“I don’t know, Mione. I love him, and I’m not going to stop wanting him, but for the last part I honestly don’t know. Things were a tiny bit easier when we were friends.”

Her eyes turned very gentle.  
“This is where you are mistaken, Harry. So you are lovers; that doesn’t change the fact that you are also friends. My mother used to tell me that there is no true marriage without friendship. So the question is: ‘Is he worth it?’” but her voice was steel.

The advice hit Harry like a revelation; he had never considered it in such way but it made sense. A marriage was far more than attraction, or even head over heels love. As for the even deeper thing, like if Tom was worth it, the answer was still the same: _‘Everyday and Never.’_ Even when he wanted to murder him he wasn’t regretting it all the way, or was even going to take a single step back.

“Yes he is worth it,” he acknowledged to himself and the world.  
 _Whatever tests he was going to put him through were not even nearly close to enough to keep him away._

Hermione beamed at him.

“That was about it! You must talk to him; make him see your side, retreat for a bit if you must, until he does...after you fix your soul, that’s it. But you have been almost only Slytherin for more than a year. Time for your Gryffindor part to play.” an almost sly smile accompanied this. “He fell in love with that part too.”

Harry blushed a bit, but her advice was nothing that he wouldn't come up himself if he wasn't in such nerves.  
 _Too bad that the retreat part wasn't going to work, but he wasn't going to just leave until April’s end...  
He didn't even want it that way... _

Hurriedly, he filled her to the bonding part. Crazily, Hermione just laughed.  
“So that was what he was researching the last days alone. He had made it utterly impossible for me to see. Who would have thought that he was such a romantic? You know the interesting part: this method sounds like it could work even without the Elixir!”

Harry wasn't seeing the levity.  
That possibility, while explained Tom’s insistence, - _if one ignored the emotional part_ \- was making things more dangerous, not less.  
“Herm, are you mad?” he hissed. “If we don’t fix things we could die.” Hermione stopped laughing and faced him head on.

“No you will, certainly, not. My mother used to tell me something else as well:  _‘‘_ _To never give myself, even to the man I loved until there was nothing else left, missing to our bond, but this, not as a matter of virginity but closeness.’’_  
You two are the poster couple for this. You will be alright, you see...”

Harry was stunned again with the thorough reassurance, and hoped too but his true fear persisted.  
“Everything turns sour for me, one way or another. I fear what happens next.”

She didn’t bat an eye, knowing him way too much.  
“So? Fight to turn it back right. You two will certainly have enough years of it.”

 _Was this the way to go?_ Harry didn’t know, but he wanted it.  
“Your mother was amazing!” he admitted at least.  
“I’m sorry that I’m the reason that you lost her.”

... _Another apology that came way too late_...

Hermione glared.  
“It’s not your fault. I’m missing her and Dad, but I chose to come. The only thing I regret is that I hadn’t thought to bring Ron, Luna, Sirius and Remus, or the twins with me, not to mention Crocks and Hedwig. But I honestly didn’t knew that Tom was going to allow even me to come.”

Harry was beyond touched, again.  
“I know...” ...Then it was his turn to try fixing the mood.  
“So you tried your mum’s advice to Zev?”

Hermione tried to glare again, but she could recognise a pay back.

“Yes. We are nowhere near there, yet, but it will come. He certainly knows how to be a perfect gentleman and not try taking advantage of a lady.” her eyes were gleaming, and her smile was different than any other he had seen from her so far - _womanly-_  and he finally realised the deeper change to Hermione. She wasn't a girl anymore, but an adult.

 _Also, Go Zev!  
_ Way Slytherin method to keep her interested and wanting more! It certainly didn’t sound merely like chivalry to him, but he honestly hoped to never find out the details. He really didn’t want to know such things for his friends, Hermione and Ron’s volunteering notwithstanding.

A few moments of friendly silence...

Harry was calming down, and for all that he was beyond grateful for her support, a small part of him was annoyed that she had browbeat out of him the information. One of her advices gave him the perfect weapon to get her back.  
“So, Herm, marriage and friendship, do you have anything, like at all, to tell me?”

He got a smack upside his head for this, but it wasn’t very hard.  
“No, you idiot, you are not just my best friend, but my brother, blood notwithstanding.”

He closed his eyes, tightly, to not show tears.  
“You too, you know this.” It was too low, he wasn’t sure she heard him.

“I know.” she had.  
Another moment of silence...  
“Weren’t you jealous, at all, when I was dating Tom?” it was her turn to speak way too softly.

Harry had to open his eyes to this, but he was so comfortable, at this moment with her, that he was brutally honest, to her and himself both.  
“You mad? I was dying from; Tom has a whole dissertation of the things that were making you the perfect possible wife...”

A startled laugh...  
“You are kidding me!”

Harry put his hand above his heart in a perfect imitation of the twins.  
“I kid you not, on my honour, Slytherin and Gryffindor!”

Another laugh...  
“I don’t know if I should be flattered or terrified for the implications ...”

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

_ **Tom’s pov** _

Using only a marginally softer tactic, Tom barged back to the compartment and examined its occupants. Both Harry and Hermione were looking far less stressed and chatting amicably, but while his lover seemed to have overcome his nerves, he also spotted a suspect redness to each cheek.  _Really_ , he understood Granger’s frustrations, but if she ever repeated that action he was going to cut her for potion ingredients and gift them on Prince.

... _Harry was his to hurt or please_...

Harry took a single look to his face, frowned, and was all:  
“Tom, what’s wrong?” instead of greeting.

Tom couldn't stand that tone. A look to those concerned green eyes and his mind flashed to what the idiot had almost done, and he was almost blinded with rage. He didn’t trust himself speaking, for fear or shouting to coarseness, or dealing any corporal punishment, for he wasn't sure that he wouldn't tear him to shreds.

Instead he chose to simply dispose the badger on the floor between their seats and return him to his original condition. Diggory looked so indisputably like a corpse that there was hardly room for doubts, and Tom leaned casually against a wall using their startled moment to study their reactions.

Hermione let out a strangled cry that, if the compartment wasn’t warded or, discounting that, hadn't held it back with both hands, would have attracted the entire train to see, too shocked for anything immediate, but Harry’s reaction was a completely different matter: While his face was totally expressionless and was trying to keep even their link almost mute, his eyes told Tom everything he needed to know: His partner was naturally enraged and sad, but it hadn't completely settled yet for him to explode. Additionally, but maybe not completely surprising, this wasn’t only about Sam. Harry’s haunted look indicated that was he was also reliving the death of another Diggory just as much.

There was something akin to hate due to that, but even with those memories it wasn't even nearly close enough to obliterate the other feelings he held for him. The stronger emotion was naturally guilt, and not even completely misplaced one this time, as Harry assumed that the apparent death was his punishment for the madness he intended.

... _Which it was, but not to the extent his partner believed, and certainly not only_...

Conclusions: while Harry was deeply hurt, it wasn't to the point of actually stopping loving him, and even if he left him for this, it was more than possible that he could win him back in a few years. The problem, with Sam dead, was that Harry wasn't going to completely forgive him, - _ever_ \- or even trust him. At the first hint of Voldemort like behaviour or even a repeat of something similar, he was either going to openly challenge him on a duel to death, or finish him off with a knife to the ribs at their bed, and immediately follow him.

... _His lover knew above all else to take his threats seriously_...

The whole thought process took him less than a second and at that time Harry was over any kind of feelings and drew his wand for revenge.  
“Check him over.” Tom commanded.

Granger, having finally gotten over her shock, induced more due to the presented body than the seemed murder itself, was on the task at once, going over all the diagnostic spells she knew, a full medical examination almost, but he didn’t care what she did — his eyes stayed firmly on his partner. Harry’s eyes flashed, dangerously so, with the order, but for once, he did exactly as he was told, limiting himself on a simple diagnostic spell, but it was more than enough.

“Latente? What the hell, Tom, what happened?”

“He was under Imperious. Grindelwald.” was the only thing Tom needed to say.

“How long until we can wake him to fix him and find out what he knows?” Harry got right to the point.

_Harry understood, and Tom was gratified to see his eyes, no, his whole demeanour, change. Bridges that seemed irrevocably burned were built back at once, looking far sturdier than before. Where there was deep betrayal and misery, now there was only love and renewed trust. He had won! It was more than worth the badger’s life._

Granger was biting her lips harshly, looking very apprehensive.  
“From what I have read, Latente, unlike normal stasis spells, is too dangerous to be maintained beyond two hours, but I don’t know if Grindelwald’s influence will be abated by then, even with the source cut.”

It was very tempting to roll his eyes _. Like he had that much time to waste!_  
“Already taken care of it. We can wake him as soon as I fill you in.” he wasn’t even gloating.

Harry gaped and approached him.  
“Legilimency under Latente? Are you mad? Sit down; you could have gotten brain damage.”

Tom smiled.

“Only for those with a weak mind. Relax, darling, I’m alright.” Harry remained very unimpressed so he continued.  
“There wasn’t time to lose. I only saw hints of the curse. I wasn’t sure, and it was better to have the enemy believe him dead than know him for caught, not to mention the information.”

He watched, amused by Harry’s rapid take on the information _(he may play it however he liked, but his Harry was anything but slow)_ his expression turning sharply calculating, but he was surprised yet again when his partner, instead of focusing on the pressing matter, examined him too, just as rapidly, frowned and, very stubbornly, kept on the previous topic.

 **“** **Sit down.”** it was an order, nothing measured about it.

Tom bristled he wasn’t in a mood to be talked in that manner, not even by Harry.  
 **“Drop it.”** he warned frostily, promising pain.  
 _He certainly wasn’t going to accept it in front of Granger, no less, no matter that she had no idea what they were talking about._

Harry still wasn’t backing down. He crossed his arms.

 **“** **Tom, be reasonable,”** he started patiently, yet in the same steely tone.  
 **“Nothing will convince me that you are leaning against the wall merely for vanity’s sake. You are pale as death, worse than Sam, and your limbs tremble, if only slightly... So will you please sit, just for a bit?”** he nudged him towards the bench then added insult to injury by addressing Granger.

“Mione, will you please find the cart lady and bring back some pumpkin juice and maybe some pumpkin pastries or cauldron cakes, or even chocolate frogs, if you can find them?”

Granger jumped up to obey in a hurry, now whether it was the order, _unheard of from Harry yet undeniable, no matter the please,_ or that she wanted out of the oppressive atmosphere immediately he really didn’t care. He wanted her out as well, but he wasn't going to allow them to treat him as an invalid. _Not now, not ever,_ so he pinned her with his eyes, ordering her silently to not dare return.

Predictably, she hesitated again before complying, but Tom ignored that too and concentrated on not killing Harry.

_Really, he acknowledged that he could read actual and very deep concern from his lover, but he abhorred the fusing. More, the fact that he dared to insinuate that he was fragile, to the point of needing sugar, was just the cup de grace. If he dared to continue pressuring, never mind treating him like a weakling, he was going to pay dearly, just not now, it was hardly the time for games._

... _Additionally his legs weren’t shaken as in at all_...

He stepped forward and levelled his wand at Diggory to wake him with the incantation on his lips, but...Harry’s hand covered softly his own... Tom turned to spear him with his eyes, but he found something that made him pause, for a bare second... The next moment his wand was back inside his sleeve and his hand was constricting painfully around Harry’s wrist. Still, his partner didn’t lower his eyes or back down.

“Please... not yet.” it was both an apology and plea _(but never for mercy)  
_...he froze...again...

Tom wasn’t mollified, as in at all, but he had seen something at Harry’s eyes... something more than overwhelming worry or iron will...  
It disarmed him, and he found himself on the bench, complying.  
“There, happy?” he asked more than a little sarcastic.

Harry didn’t seem to mind the tone. He smiled teasingly, and that strange look seemed to intensify before fading.  
“Ecstatic!” it didn’t sound completely sarcastic.

... _What he had seen wasn’t stopping merely at renewed trust. For just a moment, no more than this, he saw the surrender of all his defences. There were no shadows or doubts anymore, just total trust and fierce devotion_... _Really, if that was the reward for protecting Diggory, he could deal with it ten times over, all ramifications included, even the fretting._ Then he was disgusted with himself and those thoughts.

 _But if Harry wanted to play it dirty he was going to play too._  
“Funny thing, with Diggory there, you really don’t care about how your dearest Sam may be faring?” he raised an expectant eyebrow as in inquiry.

Harry paled with this, but he met him stare for stare.  
“Sam will keep. It’s a long way to two hours yet; he will be alright.”

Tom could sense that he was nowhere as carefree as he sounded, but the sentiment was there. _He truly came first to Harry, even regarding those under his protection, and it was heady._

... _Heady, but totally useless at the moment_...  
“Aren’t you concerned, at all, about whom else may be under imperious?” he asked archly to cover both weakness and return to business, his curiosity was peeked too.

Harry considered it for a moment, but he didn’t seem terribly alarmed.  
“Of course I am, you prat, but you are my first concern. Anyway, if you were positive for immediate danger you wouldn’t have been bothered to play with my nerves.” he stated simply and rolled his eyes to express his opinion on said game.

Another surge of satisfaction hit him with that and he smirked.  
“I’m flattered darling.”  
... _More_ _than that plus irritated, but they really should return on more serious matters_...

Some colour returned at Harry’s cheeks with his tone, and he looked a bit self-conscious, but Tom's next words took care of that.  
“...But there is a good possibility that both the Undersecretary and the Chief Auror have been compromised.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Harry commented frowning, “else things would have already been incredibly worse for us and the wizarding world in general, so what do you know for sure?” he questioned levelly, sitting across him.

Tom leaned back with satisfaction, _the nonsense was over.  
_ “Diggory was cursed Saturday, at the hospital; it is beyond probable that the abovementioned got caught at the same day, so yes, it could be that bad and will get undoubtedly worst, Merlin knows how many he got under his control.”

 _Strangely_ , it eased Harry.  
“It still sounds mostly speculating, so you could definitely rest and eat a bit before we take any action.” he commented lightly.

Tom saw red. _That damned stubborn head!  
_ Having enough with words, his wand was out in a flash and was resting against Harry’s neck.  
“Another word and you will pay. I’m not weak.”

Harry had the nerve to laugh at his face and even more infuriatingly his own wand remained hidden.  
“Weak? How many wizards do you know, even trained healers, that would have managed to get information from a comatose mind and not end brain damaged or at least unconscious for days themselves never mind doing it with a month of sleep deprivation to their system. Superman much?”

Tom relaxed; he should have known that Harry wasn't going to see him as weak. All the same, he promised himself to crucio Hermione the first chance he got. He knew perfectly well who the tattler to the last little titbit was.  
“I did what needed to be done, nothing else.” he said primly.

Harry smiled.  
“I know, but you are repeating all my lines. Does that mean that you caught my neuroses via the horcrux?” it turned decidedly cheeky.

Tom shuddered with revulsion as he pocketed his wand. His weakness to Harry aside, this was something he definitely didn't want to share. Still, he finally found the humour in the situation and broke into a reluctant smile.

“Away from me such a fate!” but he privately admitted that Harry was right, for him to have repeated the whole spiel, he must be in a pretty bad shape. “Yet, you are right; I went a bit overboard, but then so did you.” _if he was going to admit things he was going to draw the line too._

Harry sent him a definitely frosty glare.

“So I overstepped my boundaries?” his steely tones more than indicated that he wouldn’t like the consequences in a possible positive response, but then he continued and Tom was saved the indignity of answering him.  
“Funny thing, you always treat me in relatively the same way.” Tom nodded courtly his assert.

Harry nodded too... but then he started it again...  
“Does that mean that you will call Herm back and eat something?” he asked very earnestly.

 _Enough was enough;_ Tom’s magic started crackling...  
 **“Harry...”**

Harry didn't seem to be bothered with it.  
“Do you really want to not be a hundred percent when we interrogate Diggory or investigate the others?” he pointed out.

Tom cursed inwardly and conceded.  
“You are going to eat too. You haven’t eaten a thing since yesterday noon.  
Don’t think that I haven’t noticed...”

Harry accepted it, looking happy.  
“Alright.”

Balance restored, Tom smiled.  
“I’m going to kill Granger, just so you know...” he wasn’t entirely joking.

A deep breath and it started...  
“You aren’t going to hurt anyone...do you hear me...”

Tom didn’t get to enjoy the familiar tirade, Granger was back... She had brought half the cart too, including chocolate frogs. Harry hurried up to help her, almost stumbling on Diggory, and he had to hide his smirk.  
“You better not leave me out the loop.” Hermione dared to demand after everything was arranged.

Harry snickered and muttered something like:  
 _“And you want to get marked...”_ he was intrigued, but still glared at her.

“Please?” she immediately amended...  
 _Oh yes, the balance was indeed restored, and things were looking rather intriguing_...

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

 Few minutes later, Tom could, privately, admit that he felt much better. They had polished everything, except a couple pastries, and he had reluctantly shared the frogs with Harry, to his partner’s discreet amusement. _Really, that teasing smile was very needley, but he was keeping a very thorough tab._

Hermione had thankfully kept her hands to herself, but kept muttering about the current prices and how frivolous a purchase it had been. He wanted to curse her, but instead he paid her, in full. Certainly to hide his reaction but mostly because no gentleman, never mind a Lord, should tolerate that a woman would pay for him.

... _He was definitely going to deal with her in due time, even if it was going to take decades. Someday even Granger was going to screw up to the point of truly angering Harry, and he was going to be_ _ready_...

Harry looked at him curiously, as he was usually more frugal, but he just smiled mysteriously.  
 _He was going to take his sweet time to explain that one_...

Tom hadn’t used all that time in frivolities, of course, - _that would have been beyond wasteful._ He remembered to ask about Diggory’s affairs and had hit gold: According to Hermione it looked like the very handsome badger was engaged to a girl from the Smith family, a very rich and prestigious one, and if he recalled correctly, directly descendant from the Hufflepuff line.

... _It really there was no end to Diggory père’s ambitions_...

Harry’s reaction had been just as intriguing. He had flinched violently at the mention of the name, and he had tried to pass it as reaction to the information, but Tom wasn’t fooled. _If Harry could handle talking about their own covering, he had no issue about other people’s business._ It was definitely something else.

It crossed his mind that it was directed towards the very young, very red-headed, heiress but a closer look disregarded that notion as well. A mental probing was proved infective to gather more information, and he let the matter go, but only for the moment. He was well beyond intrigued at this point, but was going to ply the information at a more private setting...

Finally, after deigning to fill Granger with some details, he decided that it was time to wake the Hufflepuff...  
Tom cast the counter spell but allowed Harry the first crack at the badger.  
... _It was going to prove amusing_...

Sam’s reactions themselves definitely were...  
He wasn’t awakened all at once, looking like into the grasp of a nightmare for some moments, twitching and turning as his conscious mind assimilated the reality.

Finally he shot, sitting up, shouting:  
“Papa?”

It was fairly ridiculous; Sam was admittedly slightly broader and more muscled than him, but his voice, at that moment, was so pathetic and terrified that it could pass for a ten-year-old’s. Unfortunately, Harry didn’t see to share his sentiments, and that cut Tom’s amusement sort.  
... _He definitely regretted that decision_...

Harry had grabbed Sam by his shoulders, holding him steadily but tender.  
“It’s alright, Sam, it’s alright. We are going to take care of your father for you.” he told him as soothingly he could.

The Hufflepuff held to his partner, frantically, asking for reassurance for way too long.  
“Harry?” he asked at least with his normal voice, seeming to coming back to himself but, very soon, his meagre strength deserted him completely and Harry lowered him back down with the utmost care.

Tom’s fists unclenched, but his torture hadn’t ended, not yet.  
“Yes, Sam, glad that you are back with us. You are safe now.” Harry’s voice was at his warmest, and he comforted Sam like a child.

Diggory looked like he was forcing himself to stay conscious, and grabbed Harry’s hands this time.  
“Oh God, I was under Imperious...Please tell me I didn’t hurt anyone? ...My dad... please...?”

Harry’s tone was very reassuring.  
“No one got hurt because of you, that I promise. We are going to take care of your dad too...”

Tom knew that he must look beyond murderous at this point. Harry, bent over the badger, missed it completely but Granger, who looked beyond sympathetic so far, noticed it and, paling with frigid, tried to get Sam’s attention and move things along.  
“Sam, what really happened? Did he order you to hurt your dad?” it was almost shrill, and Tom heartily approved. He couldn’t have found a crueller thing to say.

Harry protested, rather vocally and quite insultingly for the dearest badger, but it did the trick, Diggory forced himself into a better awareness.  
“My dad? No... but Grindelwald must have gotten him...” he tried to sit up again and Tom, very helpfully, added an enervate.

Harry glared daggers this time, but Tom merely looked at him.  
 _If it was approximately beyond painful at Sam’s condition... well... Harry should have gotten the information, himself, not coddled the other_...

“It’s alright, Harry.” obviously Diggory felt man enough to reassure. _He hated it.  
_ Few moments later Sam had had ridden out the painful part with only a couple pants in visible reaction and was, at present, aware enough to remember his manners. “Miss Granger,” he even nodded courteously.  
“Tom,” this time the tone was outright reverent, “You saved me...” the bagger dared even to smile at him with dazzling and almost puppy-like eagerness.

Really, if he had been someone with a conscience it would have been bothering him a great deal. As it was, Tom was quite glad he didn’t have such a thing. He considered for a moment how to react; he didn’t want games of manners and gratitude with that person, but it was far from useful, yet, to drop any pretence so he just tilted his head in acknowledgement and offered a frosty smile.

Diggory lapped at that and continuing on offered his hand.  
“Thank you!”

Under Harry’s inscrutable face and shrugging inwardly, Riddle accepted it, _maybe for that._ But when Sam added a second hand into the mix and squeezed his skin started crawling.  _Really, there was a reason he preferred robe kissing as opposed to the hands variety,_ but thankfully the badger didn't go that far and kept it short.

Courtesies served, Tom got to the subject that mattered.  
“Don’t thank me; just tell me what makes you so sure that Grindelwald got a hold of your father, except his position.”

Sam sat beside Hermione and considered it for a moment.  
“I'm not sure. It’s just a feeling I’ve got. You see, while my father talks to me about his work, it is never anywhere but at our home, and he is very circumspect with matters of confidentiality. The Chief Auror is even more tightly lipped than him, so nothing else makes much sense.”

“I see.” while it was a bit more conclusive from what he gathered from his mind, it didn't add much to information.

“How did Grindelwald get to you?” _Harry:_ while his partner used a friendlier tone than him, he was finally progressing to true interrogation.

Diggory sighed.  
“I was dozing, and suddenly I saw white. I thought he was a healer.”

Tom barely held a derisive laugh. How _idiotic could he be?_ But Harry was ready to protest, and he did it openly.  
 **“Give him a break, he was at a hospital.”**

This time he laughed outright, maybe because he was bothered with the defence, _somewhat_.  
 **“** **He had taken skele-gro not draught of living death. We were under worse strain, and we didn’t lose our awareness of the place and people.”**

Harry nodded sharply, conceding the point, but continued.  
 **“Yeah, but this is us, he is different.”**

Tom’s lips tightened.  
 **“Remember it then, love, you said it yourself: he is different than us.”  
** Their eyes met in a silent battle, and they were absorbed in it until Granger coughed softly, breaking them up.

With his eyes returning to their object, there was a useful surprise waiting for him. Sam’s expression was somewhat glazed and was looking into empty air with a small smile to his lips. A less suspicious or observant person would have assumed that the effect of the enervate was waning, but Tom was neither. The high red spots on the badger’s cheeks were a dead ringer too. _Someone definitely had a kink._ Then he noticed that Harry had noticed too, and his pleasure was out of the window.

Harry returned to the examination.  
“When can we meet your father and the Chief Auror?”

Sam was startled by the question and blushed even heavier than before.  
“My dad usually returns home around six thirty. I thought that it would be prudent to just take you there. He can Firecall Uncle Nestor, sorry, the Chief Auror, afterwards.”

 _From the badger it wasn’t a completely ridiculous plan, still_...  
“Unacceptable. It will take far too long.”

“It is a perfectly sound plan,” Granger dared to contradict him.  
“It’s not like you can apparate from a moving train.”

Tom merely smirked at her.  
... _Just what she knows_...

But Diggory lowered his head, looking ashamed.  
“I'm sorry, but I can’t help you. I don’t know the code at the floo.” one more apologetic smile was directed entirely at Harry, obviously a reminding of a previous conversation.

“Can’t you help us anyway else at all?” Harry’s question was both to their benefit and to ease the badger.

Sam thought it for a moment.  
“I don’t know if the public place will work for you, but my father and uncle usually dine at the ‘La Marseillaise’ at two every afternoon.”

Harry considered it and seemed more relaxed.  
“We'll need to borrow from Brax or Alphard but it will work.” a genuine grateful smile towards the Hufflepuff,  
 _when it should be the other way around.  
_

“Thank you!”

Tom considered it too, seriously. _One point, the most exclusive restaurant at Diagon Alley, not bad! The other,_ he cast a tempus, _a quarter till twelve, still unacceptable._ He called his followers back.  
“We won’t. Abraxas can give us just as easily the aforementioned code.”

Harry, examined him again but, after he was convinced that was capable of doing it, accepted without fuss. For once his contrary nature conceding to his need to avoid being indebted, at least in money. The rapid conversation that followed could have happened silently, even without their link, they knew each other that well...

Tom couldn’t help a gloating smile, although he was touching a risky topic.  
 _‘See, you could have gone to Abraxas, you didn’t need him.’_ his glance pointed at Sam.

Harry looked skywards.  
‘Yeah right, even if he just given me the information, I would still need to obliviate him afterwards.’

Tom raised both eyebrows.  
‘So?’

Harry glared.  
‘I don’t obliviate friends.’

Tom tried to look hurt.  
‘You attempted it with me, twice.’

Harry tried to hide his smile.  
‘You are special!’

Both burst simultaneously into laughter.

The next moment they returned their attention to the others.  
Sam looked just mystified, having no idea of their link, but Hermione was beyond agitated.  
“Please reconsider. It’s too dangerous; you could get splinted, or worse.”

Harry tried to calm her.  
“We will be alright Hermione; I know that we can handle it.”

Her lips tightened, and she looked ready to start a tirade, but Tom didn’t have either time or inclination to hear her. He needed her for a job too.  
“Granger, go, find Watkins and Pierce, and bring them here.”

“What for?” that was from everyone.

Tom couldn’t help rolling his eyes.  
“I need them for a job,” he addressed Sam.  
“Any favourite, for the moment?”

Sam coloured violently and avoided at all costs to look towards Harry.  
“What for?” he asked again. Tom didn’t say a word, just continued looking. The badger lasted a whole minute and then caved.  
“Timothy Goldstein. We are partnered at potions.” he looked like he had offered his friend to death.

Tom was turning frustrated. The Hufflepuff had no idea, and even Granger was so involved calculating their odds surviving the moving apparition that had missed his plan completely. Only Harry seemed to have the barest idea. He sighed inwardly and shared it to the last detail to ensure their cooperation.

_The day he would mark them and finish with such tediousness wasn’t coming fast enough._

“As far as this train and the general wizarding population are concerned, Samuel Diggory was adducted and/or murdered en route to King’s Cross today. That will remain so until the end of vacation to the very least. Do you understand?” everyone nodded, and Harry mock saluted him, he didn’t mind.

“Granger, after Watkins and Pierce see proof that Diggory is -in fact- alive, you will organise Goldstein’s apprehension with total secrecy and will personally obliviate and stun him. The memories you will implant will consist of Sam approaching him for a reinstatement of their affair, after accepting that he can’t have Harry, that they were stunned mid-snog, and that he never saw who took Diggory.”

Hermione didn’t seem too happy with the very detailed orders, but she accepted them grimly and appeared thoughtful at how to induce a real-like forced memory.  
 **“** **Dictator much?”** Harry teased him, but it wasn’t a contradiction or a challenge to the orders themselves.

Tom couldn’t help but smile.  
 **“Like you don’t know it.”**

Diggory was the one that had a problem with the plan but was so distracted with the parseltongue, again, that she was already at the door when he voiced his complaint.  
“Wait?”

Tom smirked at him.  
“Do you have another preference Diggory?”

“No!” he blushed, tomato like, and looked like was kicking inwardly himself.  
“I mean, can’t talk to him instead?”

 _That was predictable._  
“No, you are already dead.” he put it dryly.

Sam blanched more with the way he said it than the words themselves, and Harry took pity on him.  
“There is a possibility that he will speak, even unwillingly.”

This time Diggory had no choice but to accept, however he finally voiced his true concern.  
“If he's so confused, won’t he speak from his impression?”

Again Harry spoke for him.  
“No, he will admit anything but this and it will add even more chaos.”  
Tom was really enjoying the way their minds worked in parallel lines, at times.

“Ah.” _it was certainly food for thought for dearest Diggory_.

Granger had watched the whole conversation by the doorway, amused.  
“Any other orders?”

Tom glared at her, but miracle of miracles Sam had something constructive to add.  
“Roger and Imogen are at the fifth wagon to the right.”

Just in time his three followers returned with barely a dent into their orders, although Harry - _to his extreme disappointment-_ found fifty people compared to the timeframe more than acceptable. But it didn’t come to become a disagreement between them. There were far more serious matters than this, like Harry going straight for Prince, taking him aside and demanding to heal Diggory outright.

Tom, naturally, took offence and all but slammed his objection at Harry’s mind.

 _Those bruises had been Sam’s punishment, of which Harry himself had agreed upon his right to administer, if he had been harder on him than on his followers it was well deserved,_ he refused to remember the nearly out of control feelings of the moment and his glare told his partner that was going to regret it if he tested him in this.

Unsurprisingly Harry didn’t much care for his reaction and had his defence ready, bringing forth the – _admittedly –_ sound reasoning that they couldn’t take him to his father in that state. His own simple counter of Parsel glamours was rejected on the again almost valid point that it could wear off and expose them before Diggory could take care of the matter at his house.

It was unlikely of course, but Tom allowed himself to give in with the quiet resolution to dice out something worst – _Harry should have known better than expecting much mercy from him in this._ The whole debate took time, even at mind to mind. He was finishing with his latest orders when Granger returned with the others in tow.

“We will probably return right around six. From this time forward you will stay in the compartment in the most permissible distance so that we could use the marks.”

“You plan to return too?” she screeched.

Tom wondered if it was her voice, so reminiscent to his mother’s, that had gotten her with the younger male Weasley,  
but he kept his own voice very calm.  
“Yes, we will, it will be too suspicious in another case. We’ll need just coordinates – simple things.”

Black muttered something about, “Simple for him,” but as it wasn’t contradicting him he let him be.

Harry had heard the danger to his voice and had interrupted his greetings to the Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff couple just in case he needed to play mediator, but he didn't need to. He had far more interesting things to do than curse Granger. However, as his eyes caught the wide-eyed and very blushing couple, he wondered if he should change his mind.

 _Had she left no one she hadn’t dragged into his business the blasted woman?  
_...He contemplated exploding the train...

“Tom?” Harry sounded worried; he supposed he could deal with them at his return.  
But, after his partner transfigured Diggory again and put him on his own pocket, he decided that there was a thing that he was definitely going to deal with, right about now.

The moment the others cleared the way for them to apparate and Harry was almost to his arms he concentrated fully on his lover’s mark, making every pleasure mark he had left on his body to tingle simultaneously like the moment it was received, but only the shadow of the sensation and for barely a fraction of a second.

Harry shuddered, his whole body quivering like a string.  
 **“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?”**

Tom smiled wickedly.  
 **“** **That, my sweet love, is a tenth of what will happen to you in front of all our friends if you ever cuddle Diggory or any other man or even woman, again.”** simple facts.

Harry understood that, and the deadly rage was balanced with mortification.  
 **“I wasn’t cuddling...”**

...And they were at Diagon Alley...

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS Edited at 11/12/2014  
> Please review to inspire me for more...


	11. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A walk to the Ministry and something more personal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Hi there:) Happy Valentine's day to Everyone:D**  
>  I think I managed to post it in time:D  
> PS this chapter is espesialy dedicated to [SweetSorcery](../../../../users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery) and [rightonthelimit](../../../../users/underxmyxumbrella/pseuds/rightonthelimit)   
> the grand masters of the art:D  
> Hugs and Love to all of you...  
>  **Krysania**

 

**Chapter Eleven: Progress**

_ **Tom’s pov** _ _ **(continuation)** _

The minuscule moment it took them to reach Diagon Alley was enough for Harry to move past mortification to downright rage and readiness to fight back.  
“Do that again and I will kill you. No, I will crucio you.” he told him the second he escaped his arms.

The fire in his eyes and the absolute steel to his voice would have told Tom how much he meant that even without the resonation of their bond, but, as Harry wouldn’t accept an order no matter what, it was as much that he couldn't back down to a threat.

“Really Harry, crucio?” he intentionally chose the second – _weakest_ – threat using his lover’s aversion as a point.  
“I thought that you were above using it?” _or incapable of casting it, but with Harry you could never know_.

Harry’s eyes flashed dangerously.  
“Try me,” he answered not backing down an inch.  
“Enough is enough; I'm not going to stop touching my friends for your fancy.”

Tom’s blood sang with this, there was nothing that made him feel more alive than their fights. Only the consciousness that they were in a semi public place (a small side-street to Diagon Alley) and their timeframe stopped him from completely letting go with his retort.  
“There are touches and touches, darling, I trust your discretion.” the last past was the best peace offering he could give.

But Harry, surprising, wasn't ready to give the matter up for all the apparent conceding.  
“I meant it, Tom, don’t do that again, ever.” again an order.

Tom’s anger would have been rekindled if he couldn’t read a certain desperation inside the order. Indeed, at a closer look, the mad glittering to the other’s eyes wasn’t based at anger only, far from it. He steeped forward.  
“Even in private?” he purred.

The fire in Harry’s eyes intensified even more and he still didn’t lower them, or stepped back.  
“Try me.” he said again, in the same steely tone, but this time it was definitely a challenge.

Tom barely held a very satisfied smile, this called for vast experimentation at the first chance he got, for now...  
“Shall we?” ...back to business.

For which Harry seemed more than willing.  
“The Cauldron?” the question sounded like a mere formality

“No,” he contradicted, “the Exandus.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose up in acute puzzlement.  
“The bookstore, why? Madam Kirova thinks the world of you, no doubt, but she’s way curious too, not to mention that you can’t obliviate her.”

Tom allowed himself to smile smugly.  
“Better her than the public place, don’t worry, sweetheart, old Nadia looks at me like a son and knows better than even thinking of divulging my secrets, she wants to see me again after all.”

The last part brought a small laugh from Harry’s lips.  
“You and your old ladies!” although within the fond teasing there was something like censure.

Tom was momentarily mystified with the oddness and acidity of the statement. _It didn’t make any sense._ He knew that he could charm anyone he needed to, and old ladies weren’t an exception to the rule, but the only old Lady he was really acquainted with was Nadia, it was hardly worth the generalisation. More, he couldn’t really pin down the emotion that sat behind Harry’s ire.

“She is useful.” he allowed trying to figure out his partner’s bee. Harry levelled him with his eyes.

“Indeed, she is your link to the inside of Knockturn without tipping your hand and I bet that you already had it in mind when you approached her for a summer job.” he shook his head almost fondly but the fierceness in his eyes wasn’t banking down.  
“The fact that you are doubtless going to inherit the bookstore, probably sooner rather than later, also helps.” he added, dryly.

Tom was pleased with Harry’s accurate insight on his plans but the realisation that he feared for Nadia’s life was almost a blow. He didn’t really care about the woman but the thought of killing her just because was fairly ridiculous. There was only an explanation for such a suspicion of course: Voldemort.

The thought brought Tom a wave of distaste.  
 _Really, old ladies and toddlers, could he fell any further? Hadn't Voldemort managed anything truly grandiose at all? And why the hell and for how long was he going to account for the other’s sins?  
_ Harry had made and kept a very sharp distinction but there were times, like now, that the old worries and fears shadowed his eyes.

He sighed inwardly and took a great care with his answer.  
“Naturally, she approaches the end of her second century, that doesn't mean I intend to hasten the process no matter how rare some of her books...I need her alive more.”

The remained tension left Harry.  
“You better...” a severe look more for form’s sake than actual threat. “...but Hermione is so going to hate you when it finally happens.” this time it was genuine humour.

Tom couldn't help a small chuckle, he could imagine all too well.  
“I know.” with that pleasant thought they were on their way.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

The Exandus hadn't changed much in the four months since he worked there; it was still a mere hole to the wall, even by Knockturn Alley’s standards, and vastly overlooked from the majority of dark wizards, but Tom know the truth, it was the finest bookstore in both alleys, (to the point of comparing favourably to some of the finest private libraries he had been able to study from) and he had ample reason to suspect that the outward appearance was only due to the proprietor’s wish to keep her rare collection to herself.

But Tom discovered that he had made a huge miscalculation by coming here, they were practically accosted the moment they touched the wards. While Old Nadia appeared the same – ancient old yet sharp eyed and cunning as ever – her demeanour was completely different and almost out of place to his beyond caring but reserved ex-boss. A wrinkled morning prophet to her counter explained the change.

_It still surprised him._

After the first enthusiastic greeting Nadia didn't made any direct attempt at hugging him but –  _very unfortunately –_ proved almost as fussy as mama Weasley – _or_ _him dealing with Harry_. Her dark eyes took in his form searching for tracks of his injuriesand she repeatedly tried to touch him, going by the excuse of straitening his clothes.

The only normal thing by the whole debate was her taking his ears off with her chatter but even then it was frantic questioning about his health not news about the latest books she acquired or planned to obtain.  
 _A pity, those would have been at least interesting._

What infuriated him most of all in the whole thing was that she kept her worry and attentions only towards him – totally ignoring and excluding Harry. He wasn't angry only by the slight though, the fact that he had to suffer it alone smarted too.

Still, Tom reined his temper and impatience and endured the touching and questioning with a charming smile, only by keeping in mind said rare collection. He succeeded in convincing her to let them go without much delay and even avoided her Russian sweets or her very heavy tea. He managed those only by agreeing to come for tea in a day or so, but that was to persuade her lending him some specific tomes, so it wasn’t much of a sacrifice.

Finally Nadia accompanied them towards her fireplace and left immediately, asking nothing and making no attempt to spy in any way.  
 _That’s was one of the reasons he preferred it here and found her such a useful ally beyond her bookstore!_

The moment they were alone Harry sent him a small smile and mouthed “Behave!” before disillusioning and Flooing out in an blatant sign of trust. Tom allowed a small smile to himself before following.  _Really, Harry was so emotional sometimes!  
_ _Even if he had been a bit sharper than usual or even peeved about the fact that she insisted to smother him with her grandmotherly like affections but practically ignoring Harry in the process it was complete unrelated to his behaviour, only the shortens of time and the task at hand mattered_.

Few moments later he was at the Ministry’s Atrium.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

 The timing was perfect, barely before lunch break, and the room was empty from witnesses. Something invisible bumped at him and after grabbing Harry’s hand they headed for the Department Heads’ offices. They met with no problems, the Parsel disillusionment not only held the appropriate time without draining them, but it wasn’t even setting off the alarms.

The ministry employees were starting to leave for break, few at the time, but they were careful and no one came at touching distance. After a bit more search they found their way shoulder to shoulder outside the Undersecretary’s office. There was a momentary stop, as they dropped the disillusionment. – _N_ _o need to disclose that particular advantage yet._ They put up shields with their wands hidden but ready, and finally they knocked the door to make a good impression, _just in case_.

It was barely a moment before an inpatient voice bided them inside.  
“Come in.”

Looking natural and almost nonchalant they did.  
The appearance of two schoolboys (as indicated by the Hogwarts emblems on their clothes and hats) shocked the two men completely and Tom used that time to appraise them.

The man standing beside the fake window looked enough like Sam to not leave a doubt for his identify. George Diggory looked to be around forty-five to fifty and while his face held something of his son’s handsomeness it stopped there. It held very little of the warmth and humility that made the badger almost a threat to him. But even the apparent haughtiness seemed too pretentious to be a natural part of his personality. Calculating, pretentious, and greedy, those seemed to be the best words defining the elder Diggory.

The older man now, sitting in from the desk, was very distinct too. There was an attempt to appear refined, but all the fine clothes or elegant uniforms of the world weren’t going to chance his plain, plebeian, features or stocky build. Luck surely must be at their side for he was able to recognise the man almost at once as their other target. Truly, the head Auror may not look very much like the little Gryffindor creep that Tom was distantly acquainted at school but the alikeness on Mad Eye Moody of the future was unmistakable.

Tom didn’t let the similarities to blind him to the other’s true character though. Where there was strength and dogmatism in the son he could see a more malleable man, although as principled, to the father. One maybe easily influenced by his passions, probably gambling. The most definite part was that Nestor Moody shared his son’s weakness in alcohol’s overindulgence.

 _He could certainly work with that_...

The couple moments it took him to form his opinion was enough for the two officials to get past their shock and try to get control over the circumstances. The Undersecretary smiled, a fairly good imitation of the genuine thing, and addressed them.  
“Messrs Evans and Riddle I presume. Close the door gentlemen and come to talk.” he was obviously trying to make his voice warm too.

Something dangerous flared inside Tom and it had almost nothing to do with addressed second. He felt Harry tensing imperceptibly at his side and he had to hide a smile. His partner had sensed the trap too.

It was a barely covered move. The moment the door closed behind them the two officials started firing curses at them, an incapacitating one from Diggory and something far deadlier by Moody, but they were already moving and for all that he could admit some skill it barely touched them to bounce off on their shields.

Working with absolute synergy and without any need for confirmation he set to deal with Diggory while Harry tackled Moody. A single stunner it was all it took and then Tom broke into his mind.

_The politician was a piece of work!_

Tom wasn’t usually one to bother himself with morals –unless it concerned Harry’s– but this one’s were so obvious convoluted that he enjoyed himself immensely. George Diggory wasn’t really under Imperious only under very strong compulsions. Two to be exact: One: to try and take them if given the chance, (that was greatly helped by his sheer terror) and Two: and most importantly to leave every part of the impending attack in Moody’s hands.

All the other decisions regarding them and his son were due to his own initiative and aspirations. He adored his son, above everything else, but it didn’t stop him from using him to further his own ambitions. He was very aware of Sam’s inclinations and even allowed the patronage of an older and higher born student when Sam was but a second year to gain an informal alliance with his family. His own political ascend and position was very much owned to the Smith Matriarch’s financial and political support in exchange for the engagement to her orphaned and overweight grandniece.

_He owned to Granger for the heads up, he could have missed it otherwise._

But it wasn’t stopping there. Even Sam’s crush towards Harry had been noted and the elder Diggory was planning to use it, as he was aware for almost every rumour and public fact about them _but mostly about Harry,_ to get his lover tied to his own political agenda. That was even before the battle, as he was aware that Harry was a time traveller, and after that, with the full awareness of Harry’s power, to set his son as a favourite even if they ended taking the wizarding world.

_Really, Tom’s plans regarding Sam weren't just a way to further their aims but a necessity for their safety._

Having seen enough Tom retracted, making sure that the politician wasn't aware how much he had seen but making it ardently clear how compromised he had been, even if he wasn’t under imperious, to add in his panic and soften him more towards them. The moment he retreated completely from his mind the politician faltered. He would have fallen if Tom didn’t hold him, not that he noticed, blabbering incoherently as he was and in total confusion.

... _Very much of a family trait..._

Not that he cared much for the other’s hysterics; he had a much more interesting view. Still, his partner’s actions seemed to have added to that confusion as well, due to having the more difficult opponent and the fact that it took him up until now to finish with him.  
 _There was going to be such teasing for that! He looked forward even in Harry’s rubbing that he had the easy mark_...

A couple minutes later, after Harry took the information he needed, he finished his task in a rather spectacular and surprising way. The moment he broke from the Head-Auror’s mind, _(which_ _still seemed ready to fight by the way_ _)_ he incapacitated him with a heart attack curse and concluded it with another, of the stasis variety. Only with that one, unlike Latente, it was impossible for someone to take his mind, _not that it was needed anymore._

Tom was thoroughly pleased and entertained, as always when his lover let out his practical and ruthless side that he loved but rarely saw, as Harry feared it and always held it under the strictest and most inflexible control. But if he was enjoying himself it was the total opposite to their only witness...

George Diggory, who had seemly gained a bit of composure while Harry got what he needed, panicked again with what he saw and fighting like a madman he surprised Tom enough, managing to get away from his hold. But, instead of running away towards the door or even calling for help, like a right-minded person would, he fell flat on his arse and crawled to a wall, hugging himself and muttering:

“Don’t kill me, please, please don’t kill me.”

Tom would have laughed his arse off with the pathetic display but the Undersecretary had gained enough of his wits that it would have been counterproductive. Harry sent him a derogatory glance and he just shrugged. _Compared to the politician’s discovered thoughts he had got out easy..._

Harry glared even more and seeing that his own approach wasn’t calming the terrified man down he got Sam out of his pocket and transfigured him back. Tom needed all his will power to not smirk in triumph from that, or to keep his amusement to himself. _  
_

_...Harry couldn’t have done worse to the elder Diggory than allowing his son to see him in such a state and the view was equally humiliating and terrifying for the son..._

The moment Sam was back to himself he run and knelt beside his father.  
“Dad?”

“Sammy?”  
The Undersecretary looked like he had gotten a new lease to life and clinging to his son he started crying.

Sam started to look worried, and then he noticed his uncle and he became outright alarmed. He held his father protectively.  
“What happened?”

Harry looked guiltily down.  
“I'm sorry, but there was no other way to help him, if I’d given him a chance he would have killed me. Now we can find a way to protect him.”

Sam examined him, still a bit upset, but he accepted it without much protest or any distrust.  _Tom couldn't help but wonder at how many things he would accept just because it was from Harry. It could be a useful experiment, but not one he itched to try._

 _Back to business_...

“Indeed,” he added, “your warning couldn't have come at a better time, both your uncle and father were heavily compromised and they own their safety to you as much to us.” a clear warming to Diggory except the outward praise.

Harry sent him a suspicious glance for the implication that the elder Diggory was under Imperious, as he should have been unconscious too in such a case, but he didn't say a word and the aforementioned man sent him a grateful smile for saving his honour to his son.

The Undersecretary seemed to getting himself together too.  
“That was your doing Sammy? How?”

Sam looked the tiniest bit uncomfortable.  
“I was under Imperious too, Tom and Harry saved me.”

Tom was getting pissed –he _had done the saving by himself thank you–_ but when Harry tried to protest he pinched him sharply to stop him _. It was better to have the Undersecretary equally grateful to the both of them_.

The father in question held his son even tighter and breathed a bit though his nose.  
“Then I owe you everything I have gentlemen, more than a life debt, more than what a mind can hold... Anything you will ask of me it will be too little.” another breath. “But what about poor Nestor, did he have to end in such a condition? There is a very good chance he would end up a cardiac.”

 _And here was the politician!_ He formally recognised the debt but in the same instant he fired back and tried to guilt them about his brother’s in law state. Tom was going to enjoy working with him.

Harry wasn't affected by the guilt trip, or if he was, (on which Tom had a very strong feeling about) didn't show it.  
“I'm honestly sorry sir, but it’s not that bad, that much I can swear,” he said with complete steel and dignity. “And it was the only way that I could save him and the campaign against Grindelwald.”

The older man seemed to shrink in himself considerably. He made a move to get up and Sam got gracefully on his feet and helped him.  
“The campaign is dead. Nestor was our stronger fighter and I don’t even know if the other Aurors can be trusted. Dumbledore is our only chance from now on.” it wasn’t a complete act no matter how Dumbledore’s name dropping pissed him off.

“On the contrary, sir,” Tom added his part, “now it’s the perfect time to attack. Grindelwald was wounded severely. If we attack now we have all the chances at succeeding and even killing him. If Auror Moody was out and about he would have ended with a target on his back and everything destroyed. Now...”

It was Harry’s time to pinch his arm. The thought of using Moody as bait to Grindelwald in St Mungo may not have gone that well with his relatives.

“...Now we can protect him by spreading rumours of a much worst condition, due the death of his nephew, and there nothing that says he can’t help us in the battle, if he is well enough, only against the open preparations.”

The Undersecretary stroked his chin.  
“You are keeping saying we, do you really plan to help?”

Harry smiled.  
“Yes sir.”

“It will be our pleasure,” Tom added, “If we’d come to an agreement of course. As for the life debt we’ll talk about it after everything else is done.” he could feel his partner’s displeasure but, as the debt was mostly his, Harry kept completely silent.

The Undersecretary wasn't displeased.  
“Gentlemen, welcome aboard.” they shook hands.

It was Sam that reminded them that there was another pressing matter.  
“What about uncle Nestor, will he be alright to be left like this?” it was obvious that he wouldn't be happy with a yes.

Tom couldn't care less about his feelings but he needed the Undersecretary’s cooperation. Then Harry took things on himself.

“Of course not, he will go to the hospital soon enough. The spell itself is easily masked and he is at an age that heart attacks are not uncommon. He just needs some memory mortifications, so he won’t panic with this. Not a full obliviate of course, he’ll need only a code word and will have everything back the soonest possible. I will take good care of him that I promise, you will just need to call for  
help the moment I free him.”

Harry looked so earnest that it was impossible for someone to notice his distaste for mind-magics, Tom could see it, to his tensed mouth, but it was only because he knew about it. Sam smiled content that it was his hero the one to deal with this, but the elder Diggory looked rather sceptical.

“It sounds a sound plan in all but what am I going to do with you? You can’t just hide here and I'm not that confident in my transfiguration to turn even one of you at a small animal.”

 _...More that he cared to not expose his son in danger than any concern about them_...

 _Still_ , Tom couldn't help an arrogant smile.  
“We have our ways to stay hidden, so don’t worry about it. You will see to your kinsman and we’ll wait for you here with Sam until you are free to talk.”

The Undersecretary looked so tongue tied and undecided that it took real effort on Tom’s part to not laugh.  
“Ahem, are you sure that you won’t get caught?”

“Positive.” he added in all seriousness.

“It’s alright Dad, they can handle it and I trust them with my life.” the younger added his piece.

“Alight, you may proceed.” the order was given reluctantly, but exactly because it was still an order, he disillusioned himself and Sam wandlessly and almost completely silently and watched with acute sadistic glee as the Undersecretary panicked, trying to understand why the alarms weren't going off.

“Whenever you are ready, Sir.” Harry added and his smile was only a notch kinder than Tom’s own.  
 _Really, the fact that he was still able to deny his own cruel streak so vehemently kept baffling Tom_...

The Undersecretary gave his consent and after Harry done his short work with the Head Auror and disappeared he set the alarm, making a beyond convicting act and moving faster than anyone, not in a broom, he had ever seen.  
 _Really, Tom was almost impressed_.

* * *

~*~

* * *

The waiting was a very brief one, half hour later the Undersecretary was back.  
“Now that we are free, gentlemen, how you can help on the attack, will it be your excellent fighting skills or it will be something more?” he asked very business like and doubtlessly silently ordering his son to keep quiet from now on.

Harry leaned a bit towards the bureau.  
“We will tell you whatever you may need to know but, will you please tell us about Mr Moody’s condition first?”

The Undersecretary’s professional visage just melted, _Bloody Hufflepuff! But then again Harry was genuine too_...  
“I believe that he will be alright, Mr Evans. The doctors didn't seem too concerned and Morin with Alastor are there too. They will be able to call for help if need be and will take him home the soonest they can.”

Harry relaxed with the news and Tom was again morbidly impressed by his authentic concern.  
“Thank you, sir; I will visit him then to return the memories.”

The Undersecretary smiled gratefully and returned to business.  
“So, tell me more about yourselves and your abilities.” it was Tom’s turn to take it from there.

“I have studied excessively about wards and have some talent in breaking them...” he put it humbly knowing full well that the Undersecretary was going to take it in exactly the right way.  
“Harry here has an uncanny knack to get away from tight positions.” and so it went.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Five hours later it was a content, but tired, Tom and Harry that accompanied unseen the Undersecretary and his son to the Floo for added secrecy. The time had been productive with not only organising the battle preparations and joining training schedule, but talking actual politics which was just as important in his book.

The only unpleasant side in this was that the Undersecretary just kept being more interested in Harry and trying, at the lightest moments, to throw his son at him. It got to the point that he offered to host them for diner soon and took the liberty of inviting Hermione. Tom wanted to crucio him for his presumptions but it was too soon for such a step and even said presumptions could turn useful for a time, _so he needed something else_...

... _For now though_...  
The Atrium was again empty and as the elder Diggory opted again for Harry’s attention Tom used the time to deal some well deserved retribution.

“Thank you again for saving my father and me, it means a lot.” Sam took yet again Tom’s hand on both of his and moved almost imperceptibly closer. “Don’t mind my father, he means no harm and I will talk to him anyway.”

Tom smiled pleasantly.  
“See that you do.” but he didn’t immediately freed those hands and it was only a couple hissed incantations that were needed.

Sam’s eyes widened in pain and horror but it was such his shock that he didn’t even consider crying out.  
“You?” he uttered weakly looking to his beyond pained hands and trying to find the hidden burns.

Tom’s smile was real and deadly this time.  
“Relax Diggory, its nothing that won’t pass with the healing potions that your father will, undoubtedly, ply you, just to be sure.” the smile disappeared just like that.

“It’s a little reminding of some facts. If it happens that you touch Harry again inappropriately it won’t be those feeble burns to your palms anymore but I will burn your hands off, up to the elbow.” his gaze intensified even more and Sam nodded trembling.

Tom continued in an almost affectionate tone.  
“Dare to speak to him again inappropriately and I will cut off your tongue. Merely look at him inappropriately and I will burn your eyes out. Clear?”

“Crystal, my Lord.” Sam looked ready to pass out but his voice was steady.

For the first time the title was appropriately used, Tom was pleased. They said their farewells with the Undersecretary noticing nothing out of the ordinary. He was basking for a moment in well brought revenge when Harry asked casually.  
“So what the hell was that?”

Tom examined him carefully. He looked suspicious but not too suspicious.  
“Nothing much, he was just apologising for his father hitting on you.”

Expectantly, Harry spluttered.  
“No way, tell me the truth.”

Tom just smiled; he had said a part of the truth. _If Harry wanted the rest he had to work much harder than this_.  
“Tom, will you tell me?” a calculated glance under his fringe.

This time he blinked at Harry innocently. _If his partner used such tactics he was going to do the same_.  
“Let’s go back to the others, golden boy.”

“Tom!” ...utter outrage.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

He watched, covertly, from above his book as Harry puttered around their given room, supposedly, preparing for the night. Not that his partner really noticed his attention, brooding and in the brink of an explosion as he was. Tom himself wasn’t much better but he had already a set plan and that helped with his composure.

The evening was an interesting one to say the last. The Potters were suitably grateful to them, to the point of Lady Potter not batting an eye at the room arraignment, and even discarding the mere formality of two beds. That had naturally taken Harry way aback, and it was just the beginning. Tom found that he could more than tolerate their hostess’s dry humour and pragmatism. It was going to be definitely easy dealing with them as Harry’s family in a semi-regular manner.

_But it went so much deeper for Harry._

He had watched very carefully as the diner progressed and their hosts slowly became more natural around them, but it was a revelation to his partner, Tom didn’t know anything concrete about the elder Potter’s personality but his Lady’s seemed much compatible with his Harry and so was her sly but daring brat’s of a daughter and even Leonard was a known quantity. It was more than apparent that given enough time Harry could learn to love them very much.

Tom didn’t mind.

It was Tom that had given them to him after all, _with_ _Harry very aware of that fact as he would have never approached them by choice_. That was making it tolerable, to the very least, added by the fact that they were adults and so in control of the contact. But as Harry gradually became aware that he had taken even the barest first step of familial attachment he panicked and started closing off.

... _For the Potters’ defence rather than his own_...

It was beyond enraging for Tom. The whole thing brought, rather pointedly, home and to the forefront of his mind _(_ _not that he had really forgotten it in any sense_ _)_ what exactly Harry had planned and how insanely suicidal he could be, merely for an unknown relative not even an actual close familiar connection. He spent the rest of diner quietly seething and that continued back to their room.

Harry could be considering himself already punished for all he know, simply because of the scare he got by seeing Diggory’s body, but Tom was far from satisfied, no matter how traumatic it had been. He wanted to grab Harry by his hair and beat the shit out of him again and again, up until he understood what the hell he had done.

Two things stopped him from acting in that way. One: he was going to need Harry at his best for the battle, not recovering from what he had inflicted in him, and Two: no matter how much he may beat him up he wasn’t sure that it was going to be enough of an input to change his mulish mind from acting again in crazy sacrificial ways.

 _Honestly_ , he doubted that even rendering him incapable to get up from bed for about a month or more was even going to be enough an impact. _No, he needed something subtler_...

Finally Harry had enough with stalling and after changing for the night he approached the bed. Tom put purposefully his book down and gave him a slow deliberate once over. He looked rather fetching in his green cotton pyjamas and Tom took a mental note to change them with silk ones.

Harry’s whole attention was instantly to him and he blushed heavily with an intense mix of arousal and shame, his eyes darting from around the room to the door and back to him.  
“Can I take a rain check? I'm kind of beat.”

Tom smiled wolfishly. _His Harry was nervous about getting touched in his family home, how endearing!_  
 _It was going to be the last of his problems..._  
“Nothing like that.” he said very lightly, “but we need to talk.”

A flash of disappointment passed from Harry’s eyes and he became instantly wary, no, more than wary, highly on alert.  
“Can’t it wait until morning I’m really beat.” he evaded, then his eyes narrowed.  
“And you must be too, you took the bear of the apparitions.” he didn't even need to mention again that pesky sleep deprivation matter.

Tom was indeed a bit tired, - _not that he would admit it on pain of death_ \- but nowhere near tired to stop him from what he was planning.  
“Sit.” an unmasked order.

Harry stiffened.  
“I prefer standing.”

Tom’s smile became more dangerous. _If he preferred a dressing down like an errand soldier...he had no idea what awaited him anyway_...  
“The fact that you even considered going against Grindelwald and the whole Nurmengard by yourself proves that you have no preservation sense whatsoever, suicidal is too mild a word.”

Surprisingly, Harry blushed with pure shame to this.  
“It won’t happen again, I wasn't in my right mind at the time.”

Tom was more than pleased with that but it was too soon to show even a hint of approval, he made his face to appear sterner.  
“Maybe you are truly remorseful, but the fact remains that you were always partial to suicidal stunts not just recently. How will I trust you to not repeat something similar? You need an example.”

Harry’s face darkened considerably.  
“Oh trust me, Sam’s dead body was example enough for me.” his tone was dry but heartfelt.

“Diggory got home to his father alive and well.” Tom hissed, for once without the slightest smudge of pretence in his words or voice.

Harry stiffened as in from a blow.  
“So, what do you consider an appropriate example?” his voice and stance a pure challenge.

Tom smiled chillingly.

“I considered killing a random family every time you do something crazy, it would have cost me nothing as you wouldn’t know them to care or even find out about it.” he teased with relish knowing that Harry was going to be far more serious with his welfare, even knowing he was joking, for just in case. “But it wouldn't hurt you if you didn't know so it’s all but useless.” he concluded it with a detached shrug, making it all the more real.

Harry glared daggers.  
“So what did you do, or planning doing?” it was an order.

Tom grinned, almost coyly, and steepled his hands.  
“I thought about activating your mark and having you come again and again until the pleasure became pain... But you would enjoy that, at least the start. Beating the shit out of you is also out, you’ll need to be in top form for the battle...” he stopped.

Harry looked like he was considering murdering him.  
“What Are You planning To Do?” he insinuated every word.

Tom regarded him even chillier than before.  
“As beating you is out I'm thinking more about trashing your pretty backside. Maybe, if you couldn't sit for a couple days, that will stop you for taking idiotic risks again.” he patted his lap.

Harry was literally seething with this.  
“Are you out of your fucking mind? I'm not a little kid for you to spank. Its beyond humiliating, even as idea.” he crossed his arms beyond insulted.

Tom’s smile became a mix of hot and cold. _His intentions were definitely inappropriate for a little kid_.  
“Spanking is a very mild word to what I'm considering doing you, darling. As for the humiliation factor, that’s precisely the whole point and more than just desserts as it’s exactly your punishing method by choice.” he pointed out, hoping to mask his even darker intentions.

“Now, come here.”

Harry shifted into a fighting stance.  
“You want to beat me come and do it, but I'm not going to just accept it and you can’t force me.”

Tom’s eyes flashed.  
“Your mark is right above your spinal cord, funny thing that, so I can and I will. Your only decision regarding this is if you will take it as a small kid or a man.”

Harry froze and after sending him another murdering glare he took decisively the final steps parting them.  
“Fine.”

Tom sent his glasses to the nightstand and helped him to lie on his thighs, all the while hiding his devious smile.  
 _Really Harry was for the surprise of his life..._

The first and last clue he allowed his lover about his true intentions was the slow sensual way he lowered his pants and underwear.  
Harry stiffened, finally understanding where this was really heading and Tom had to hold him down with one hand to stay in his place.  
But that first slap left him quite accepting. All because Tom, having no reason to hold back, had struck him with his whole strength.

 _Really pain – and a lot of it – was very much part of getting even to the emotional pain that Harry had caused him_.

However, as he continued – still showing no hint of mercy and tanning evenly Harry’s rather delectable behind – his lover realised that, no matter how much strength Tom was putting into this, it wasn’t exceeding his pain threshold and started relaxing, letting go. That was exactly what Tom was waiting for and continued with renewed vigour. Only this time nature was working with him and, as the endorphins started rushing in, Harry became more and more aroused with this.

It was then that humiliation truly struck Harry and he panicked, starting to fight, Tom had to keep more than half his concentration to keep his lover right in place. That resistance charged Tom’s –so far manageable– arousal to something beyond fierce and become more than a punishment to him – the most erotic experience of his life.

But he kept more than enough of his wits about him waiting for the _‘No’_ _._ It was going to be more than painful at his condition but having already made his point he could completely disarm Harry by respecting his wishes.

Strangely enough, for all that Harry continued fighting like an eel the forbidding word didn't come past his lips. Really, not even inside the crumbled defences of his mind, _it didn't even crossed to him as idea!_ Instead, now his trashing had the total opposite motivation, rising up to meet his hand and crashing right down, erection to erection.

Tom lost himself completely with this, with Harry. It wasn’t blood running to his veins anymore but warm honey and wine, intoxicating him completely. He didn’t even know where he was hitting any longer and barely managed the concentration for banishing their clothes. But even as their pleasure started cresting, as nude flesh met nude flesh, and the pressure inside his body coiled and coiled he realised that he needed something more... He needed to see Harry’s face – _the ecstasy_ – his eyes blown with pain and pleasure... 

With a tug he had his love right to his arms, one final look and it was almost over. Harry crashed his burning lips beyond filthily to his and hid his face to his neck, panting. Tom barely found the stamina to whisper in his ear.  
 **“Someday...soon... I’m going to warm you up... again... just like that... and then take you... again... and again... and again.”** he panted.

That was the final trigger that Harry needed, he lost it with just that, taking Tom with him.

* * *

~*~

* * *

They rested together for a long while, but as Tom was starting to actually doze Harry slipped from his arms and left the bed, bringing him back to the present. A few moments later he heard water. He considered about summoning his wand and cleaning up the mess but he really was beyond exhausted and felt so lazy... he closed his eyes for a moment.

The next thing he was aware about was a small drop in temperature and then a soft sound. His hand shot up, as by itself, caching the damp towel in the air, barely avoiding it crashing to his face.  
 _Ha, take that Harry!_ His partner wasn’t the only one with excellent reflexes.

Tom didn’t offer any thanks but, as he could sense that something was wrong, cleaned himself deftly wondering what on earth Harry was thinking with a move such as this. It was certainly a challenge, demanding an immediate response, which he carefully denied, thinking furiously at how to optimally answer this.

While there was something playful to this _daring_ , the intention was clearly to anger him. _Now what for?_ Certainly not to get him right to round two, as his lover was never going to openly admit such a desire.  
 _It was way early for something into those lines_...

The logical possibility of winding him up for a fight seemed far more credible but the fact that he couldn’t sense any of Harry’s thoughts or emotions made this extremely worrisome, _he usually burned hot not cold.  
_ Having made the initial assessment he raised his eyes to meet Harry’s.

Cold, hard, unforgiving, fury met his-own stare. There was also deep hurt and humiliation, but that was under layers and layers of ice.  
“That was intentional.” it wasn’t really a question.

Harry was leaning against the bathroom’s door with crossed arms and a small towel, but he could have been to Antarctica with such mental distance between them. He looked well beyond simply affronted, white as sheet with rage, and Tom could almost physically feel him stiffening and becoming even more rigid under his gaze.

For the first time this night Tom wondered if he had gotten it too far.  
 _He wanted Harry to pay but not hurt him to that extent and he hardly expected such an extreme reaction._

Thus, he decided to play openly and so to force everything that Harry felt out in the open.  
“Yes.” _it wasn't necessarily to voice it but it was a sure way to make his partner react_.

 _It didn’t work_. Harry’s eyes flashed lethally but, other than that, he didn’t react in any other way, his shields remaining impenetrable.  
 _Apparently he was far more hurt than angry_.

“Then I hope that you enjoyed it,” his voice was completely frosty.  
“...because never again.” his voice wavered to the slightest bit in the end, but it held true conviction.

Tom was shocked with the vehemence of the reaction. He was more than aware of the deep denial that Harry held about his own needs but such a total aversion to one’s self was new and he had honestly started to worry that this was a new mental breakdown.  
“You enjoyed it too.” he said softly, trying to figure out the extent to the damage.

Harry fixed him with his eyes, finally starting to look more alive.  
“I did. But you used it to prove a point.”

Tom’s anger flared too, even more so because he had been worried.  
 _That was about it!_

“And this is new? Anything can and will be used between us, darling. You, yourself, used it today, or have you forgotten it?” he asked sarcastically and rose from the bed, summoning a dressing robe.

That got the whole room crackling with magic and the first legitimate crack on Harry’s shield.  
Tom couldn't help a shiver from the lava he could sense beneath the ice but he forced the reaction down.  
 _If Harry planned to leave him he hardly deserved such a boon_.

“So you decided to humiliate me by showing me my place once and for all, that’s it?” Harry’s voice finally betrayed all his rage, all the anguish. The ice became shards cutting deeply...on both edges.

But Tom, although deeply affected by his beloved pain, was way puzzled with this.  
“Harry, I hardly intended to humiliate you that far. So you enjoy a bit of pain, big deal.” he tried again.

Harry’s gaze never looked more like the killing curse as it did at that moment.  
“Don’t play with me, Tom,” he countered sharply, “you wanted to prove to me that you could have me any time – any way – you wanted to, but my own desires to the matter were irrelevant.”

An immeasurable wave of sickness hit Tom with this. _Did he really?_  
When it passed it was replaced with molten fury. He didn’t even know how he ended looming above Harry, cornering him to the door, but the fact that he didn't shake him until his teeth were clattering was only due to his inhuman control.

“I didn't force you,” he gritted out, “you could have told me no any time, but you didn't even thought about it. You wanted it.”  
 _It wasn't perfect though._

Harry raised his face towards him; his eyes seemed glassy, like if he was holding back tears.

“That’s exactly the problem, Tom, _I wanted it_. You made it adamantly clear today that you wouldn't tolerate any overtures by me and yet the moment you did I accepted it eagerly, _no mater what you wanted to give me..._ ” his cheeks were stained red and he looked miserable and utterly humiliated.

 _Harry really believed that he had no power over him in this? Utterly preposterous! He wouldn't have spent half the day freaking out about it in such a case_... _Even had he wanted to curb his partner’s intoxicating influence he wouldn't have gone with such a route, Harry’s first instinct was always to leave at a perceived rejection and this counted double as such a thing_.

Tom wanted to laugh hysterically or hit him. _Had he denied him anything so far?_   There was the usual dose of negotiation of course, but his partner had gotten his way a great deal too... He met Harry’s eyes, sharing that particular thought.

Still, at a closer look, it was very much apparent why Harry had latched instantly to such an idea.  
 _The line parting it from his true intentions was an absurdly thin one_. Tom didn't feel much of remorse for creating that impression in the first place but he needed to fix it – _fast–_ and he had a feeling that the long explanation wasn't going to cut it.

“Had I allowed myself to give in this morning it would have assuredly ended with me buried inside you.” he told Harry bluntly. “Sorry, love, I prefer to keep you, not just have you a couple times and then lose you at the next crisis.”

Harry choked into thin air and Tom was gratified that while he always ended spilling the beans – _and far more inelegant than would have preferred–_ the reaction was pleasing. He could live with that!  
“You want to?” Harry was all wide eyes and flaming cheeks, the anger and ice a thing of the past...

Tom dropped momentarily all his masks.  
“Yes.”

Harry’s eyes darkened just as much with desire but his parted, panting, lips firmed again after a second.  
“You may want whatever but if you think that things will go only the way you desire you can forget it.”

Tom smiled slyly. _The danger was over._  
“I wouldn't dream it! And I have no intention at all to deny you your rights; you will just have to win them.”

Harry’s brows furrowed.  
“Win it, as in how? You mean? ... _Oh_...” he blushed again as he finally got it.

Tom had to hide his smile. _Their duels were going to get legendary!_  
“How eloquent!” he teased.

But Harry wasn’t exactly ready for teasing, yet.  
“Why did you start the whole thing in the first place?”

 _Like he could have forgotten!_  
Tom was ready to come clean though and he opened his cards completely.

“I wanted to punish you in a way that you wouldn't have been able to forget. You always hide from yourself, from your very nature, as you are uncomfortable with it. But why should I permit you that comfort when you always drive me to a wall with your suicide runs?” a deep trembling breath to keep his voice from rising.

“I wanted to rip it from you, to leave you no choice but to face your own nature and desires, everything that you can’t, or deny, to handle. If I have to suffer the consequences of such masochism everyday so must you ... You will never be able to hide again.” he still hated how emotional he was sounding.

 _Harry_... Harry didn't explode, demanding to just take it or leave ... neither dolefully pointing out that he didn't have to, as he was expecting ... he looked at Tom for a very long time.  
“It was still a shitty thing to do.” he finally told him quietly.

Tom wasn't going to apologise.  
“What you planned was just as shitty if not worse.”

Harry met his eyes but nodded slowly, conceding the point.  
“True, but I'm not exactly like that.”

_Denial and persistence thy name is Harry!_

Tom couldn't help a small sinker.  
“Want another demonstration, sweetheart?”

“Noo...not really.” the denial came immediately, if a bit breathless, even managing to finish nonchalantly to an extent, _but_ _by_ _the way this was going he could soon toast bread on those cheeks_...

Still, Harry faced him on, bravely, uncomfortable or not.  
“I liked it, I won’t deny that...” Tom had to nibble on his ear for that.

“Good, for I intend to satisfy your every need or desire to the full, no matter how small or hidden is it.” the softest of whispers.  
“But never something that you don’t want, or can’t handle, that I promise.” he offered and had to hide his smile at Harry’s hair when his lover’s hand grabbed spasmodically at the lapel of his robe.

He may openly admit his weakness that didn't mean he wouldn't take the upper hand given a chance.

Still he had forgotten Harry’s will; his partner shoved him softly away.  
“...But it’s not the only kind of desires I have.”

Tom had to smirk at that.  
“I've already told you that you can have your way with me, anytime, and I bear the marks to prove it...” his body was literally swamped with them, especially his neck.

Harry didn't back down.  
“I mean other than rough stuff.”

Tom didn’t need more clarification and he considered it. He had no problem with slow but he wasn’t that sure about sweet. Still, he knew Harry; his lover had a huge well of pent-up tenderness inside him and affection that was never allowed freedom due to his abysmal relatives.  
 _Harry needed that._ He wasn’t going to deny him and risk that someday he would seek it out from someone else ... a sweet teacher, or secretary, or. even worse, the accursed Diggory.

“We can try.” he offered.  
“Everything, barring full intercourse, is on the table.”

Harry was stunned.  
“Tom...” he started very hesitantly.

But he had already made his mind.  
“I already promised everything,” he cut him steely, “... and I'm yours too... So ... if you want me?” he better get it over with and it honestly wasn’t a completely dreaded prospect.

Harry shook his head.  
“Not tonight.”

Tom glared.  
 _If he was treating him with kid’s gloves_ ... but no, he knew that mischievous expression...

... _Harry was planning something_.  
“My choice: a whole night at my terms and the date of my choosing.”

Tom tried to not glare. _This was way too far, but he couldn’t back down now_.  
“Acceptable.”

Harry blinked at his response and then smiled, kind of relieved, but there was still some strain. _So he really didn’t expect him to agree._  
“You bloody martyr!”

Harry instantly took offence.  
“Hey, cut it with that! Consent is a two way street, you were and still are somewhat conflicted about it. Was I illogical for wanting to offer the same courtesy?”

Tom regarded him frostily.  
“I'm perfectly capable of looking for myself, thank you. Should I find anything utterly offensive you will definitely know.”

Harry smiled, somewhat ruefully.  
“I would prefer knowing a bit earlier than that if you don’t mind.”

Tom nodded in pact, his lips curling up in dark humour.  
“At least you finally admit that it was consensual.”

But Harry wasn't needled; in fact his eyes were disturbingly soft and unguarded.  
“I never said it wasn't, I know how much that topic matters to you,” a breath,  
“You were beyond mad by the mere idea, you were hurt and I could feel it. I’m so, so, sorry.”

Tom didn’t like this topic one bit, _he needed to change it, fast_ ...  
“Harry, drop it ... you make me sound like I have morals when we both know that I don’t.” he ordered half humorously to deflect.

Harry looked very uncomfortable, his eyes held an apology, but he still pressured.

“To this you have. If you didn’t, you would have gotten me just after Amelia...” he laughed in a very self derisory way.  
“I was such an emotional mess that had you made a pass at me then I would have accepted if only for one of us to be happy.” he confessed matter of factly.

Tom was beyond sick with the specific emotional talk, _Harry may think that his own vulnerability would equal things but at this point it just made him sicker_.  
“Really, that must have been quite the mess! You were so averse to the idea that it crossed my mind that you had been exploited.” he hit right back in the worse way he could think.

It worked for a moment. Harry looked ready to pass out from horror.

“You thought what? From whom?” the littlest probing to their link was enough to give him the answer and he recoiled as if struck.  
“Vernon ...? Are you nuts?” the shock had started to really set. Harry looked like he was trembling from internal cold and called his own robe to him, tying it tightly to his body.

Tom told himself that he didn’t feel bad about it, it was well deserved that, and he definitely wasn't going to start coddling Harry by hugging him right now. _Still_ ...  
“Relax, it was only a thought. Do you really believe that I would have left him alive in such a case? Unless you tell me otherwise, that’s it.” he added calmly.

He really didn't like the extent of that reaction. But he still had the time spell and he could deal with the vile cockroach with ease. The fact that it was going to be another version of Vernon Dursley from the one that hurt his Harry really didn’t mattered to Tom one bit.

Harry seemed to come down from his panic.  
“Salazar! Did you have to put such a picture to my mind? If I had lived for a thousand years or more it would still be something I could do without.”

Tom didn't say a single word he just continued looking at him and Harry was forced to continue.  
“He never looked at me in that way, never mind touching me, even if he had that kind of inclinations. I saw no hint of it as he was too repulsed and fearful by my magic.”

Tom wasn't callow enough to point out how much it lacked as a defence, or even how close it was to an accusation that Harry was never, ever, going to utter against his family. He put a mental note to kill the piece of lard anyway. If Harry found it later and got pissy he would use it but not before.

But that moment of distraction was enough for Harry to get his bearings and brains back.  
“Who hurt you, Tom?” he asked softly.

Tom’s world stopped for a moment but due to a lifetime of masks managed to hide it.  
“Excuse me, where on earth you come up with that? No one hurt me like that.” the haughty indignation was just perfect.  
Unfortunately his acting skills got to a waste towards Harry.

“Tom please; I know that this it’s not just about Merope.” his voice was even softer but it held a ring of steel. “No man without actual familiarity to sexual abuse would have come to such a conclusion at once, not even one paranoid as you. So please tell me.” the green flames were directing all their power to him.

The memories were poison on Tom’s mind and lips but he suppressed his anger and hate to them due to long experience. The wrenched orphanage was in the past anyway, destroyed to its foundations by a German bomb, the perpetrators already dust and bones. He refused to leash out to Harry for this, not when he had enough of his facilities to know that he had brought it to himself by his probing.

This wasn't something he wanted Harry to know _**ever**_ but he could bear it due to the fact that his partner’s eyes held no pity only indignation on his behalf and rising fury.  
 _Still he would rather share the barest minimum_.

“I wasn’t sexually abused.” he started firmly, “if that was the case the ritual would have been unsuitable for our needs.” adding the only thing that mattered at present. “However, there were two men that tried and failed and they are dead and buried for years now.” _there, these must satisfy even Harry_.

It didn’t come even close. His sparse declaration incensed Harry on his behalf to a frightening point, one far exceeding his efforts in self defence. The Potter wards tightened around them in response but it wasn’t cloying far from it.

“I couldn't care less about the ritual right now. You spoke about years for Salazar’s sake!” Harry was trembling so hard he looked like he could break and was holding on his hands for dear life.

“But I do, thank you very much.” Tom found himself calming while Harry ragged and he didn't even have to expel his feelings. It wasn't degrading to have Harry exploding on his behalf but oddly freeing and intriguing. 

The only worry now was if the explosion exceeded Harry’s healthy point but even at such a case he believed that he could contain it.  
“The only thing that matters to me is us. Those worms were killed a long time ago.”

“Tell me what happened and how you killed them.” it was both an order and plea. Tom was getting drunk from the concern and fury. _More, was that a touch of blood thirst?_ Even if it was exactly that, it was so saturated in protectiveness that he never doubted for a moment that it truly belonged to his Harry.

He licked his lips and found himself complying to the full.  
“Mrs Cole didn't take my fighting back that well and, as the unexplained things piled up, called a priest to exorcise me. That in itself was ghastly enough but when he managed to tie me down he decided that I was the devil himself and was urging him to sin.”

“How old were you?” the barest whisper. Harry was pale as death and holding on his hands to the point of forming bruises but Tom hardly noticed, he was too absorbed to his recollection.

“Nine...” another breath and he continued, unable to stop now, opening himself and sharing the memory itself.

“I fought with everything I had, things I hadn’t even considered then, but when Mrs Cole finally came to investigate, when she couldn’t hear the screams anymore, she found him dead above my body. Thankfully it was such his condition and mine that she couldn’t doubt what she saw and he was old enough that it looked like his heart had given out. I wasn’t punished and she never brought the matter up again, to me at least.”

What Tom had considered as bloodlust before was nothing compared to now. Harry’s whole body was thrumming with that, his eyes were dry but glittered like the fires of hell were burning inside them.  
 **“** **He didn’t suffered enough.”** a simple hiss that held all the hate of the world but none of Harry’s expected pity. He couldn’t help a shiver.

A mirthless smile graced Tom’s lips.

“I can assure you that he suffered. I didn’t knew it then, but I believe it was an accidental and crude form of the Cruciatus, that, and it took him a very long time to die. So you see it wasn’t on your behalf but mine that I shed my first blood.” he added the last part almost teasingly but it held a very strong purpose.

 _It comforted and excited him to see Harry so vengeful on his behalf but he preferred him with his sanity intact_.

“Good!” Harry’s eyes held that vengeful look for a moment more but a strange remembrance of fire chased it away.  
He became thoughtful instead. _  
_“You know, Tom, it didn’t look exactly like Cruciatus to me, more like the protections of my mum’s, minus the fire.”

Tom didn’t know what to say. It was utterly ridiculous as a thought, no matter that Harry truly believed it, but he found himself unable to scoff at it and instead ended, vastly unusually, to be kissing Harry’s temple.

They stayed like this for a long moment, but when Harry spoke again it was to appease him, having caught the additional burning humiliation to the whole matter.  
“I don’t think that Dumbledore knows of this. He showed me the memory, if you remember, and it was uncontaminated. There was no Legilimency towards Mrs Cole and she kept that part to herself.”

A small weight left Tom’s shoulders. He didn’t believe that Dumbledore was any less of a faker than before but nonetheless it was a relief that he didn't know about that specific indignity.  
“Good. Now let’s get to rest a bit, you were tired.” the tension was leaving him and he remembered his weariness.

Harry stayed there though.  
“And the other man, you never told me about him?”

Tom swore inside, but as he had started it he was going to finish it.

“The other was a driver that got us to the countryside in the summers. He had very long hands and the summer before I got my letter he decided to hound me. A couple rapid dogs did a very short work of him.” now that he had told everything he fount it rather cleansing and knew that Harry wasn't going to breathe a word to anyone.

Harry took the second story a bit calmer but there were still the feelings of justice, revenge and regret that he couldn't dice out his own payment.  
“It was a bit extreme without a direct attack involved, but I can’t say it wasn't just desserts.”

_That was what made his Harry so very dangerous, he may abhor cruelty with a passion but there was nothing he would stop at if what he loved was threatened._

Now that the risk of a psychotic break was over Tom found himself enjoying the reactions more. The most brilliant part: the certain knowledge that even if they weren't lovers Harry’s emotions to the matter would have been exactly the same – with this going as far as their year to the future, or even the middle of their first year. Nothing could compare to that!

He kissed Harry on his hair this time.  
“Let’s go to sleep, O Justice Lord, you can barely stand.” he tugged him towards their bed.

Alright,” Harry was so knackered there was no resistance, not even a quip... _No wrong on that_...  
“If only consent mattered to you more than on matters of sexual nature.”

Tom stopped as if struck; he dragged Harry the last steps to their bed forcing him to sit on its edge.  
“What the hell was that?” all traces of drowsiness were gone.

Harry’s own got clear too within a moment.  
“I didn't mean it exactly the way it sounded but it’s not like you really care about my opinion. We are here when you know that I strongly object and its more than twelve hours since you promised to explain your plans.”

Tom pinched his nose, harshly. _He should have known!_  
“I asked you if you would prefer the Malfoys, it wasn't completely rhetoric you know.”

Harry sighed looking down.  
“I know, but you also knew my feelings on the matter and processed anyway. It’s even more difficult now that I met them. Danger follows me, what if Dorea, Leonard, or even Annette, gets hurt because of me? I don’t know if I could handle it.”

Tom titled his head half fondly; _tiredness turned Harry towards the dramatic_.

“Even if that’s the case, they are already targets and we are going to protect them from here. Give it a day or so and I believe that you will be relieved.” or so he thought but Harry seemed to accept it for now.  
“Do you still want to hear my plans?” a bit too blatant a manipulation but, as Harry himself would have put it, he needed his beauty sleep.

“Yes, now please.” Harry sat up better and set sharp eyes at him.

It was Tom’s turn to feel like an errant soldier.  
“We couldn’t stay at the castle because, one, I planned for us to raid Borgin for the rare books he has. We’ll need that edge against Grindelwald.”

“I thought you intended to load us from Nadia?” Harry asked innocently enough.

Tom wasn’t fooled from that innocent look.  
“There are some things that even Nadia won’t touch; I prefer to be fully prepared.” Harry rolled his eyes.  
“What? Do you prefer ignorance?” he goaded a bit.

Harry sent him a half amused glare, he was on him.  
“I will check them, but I won’t cast unless it’s absolutely necessary and so will you. Necromancy it’s so not my thing.”

Tom conceded to both points _, it was enough_.  
“Anyway, we re going to be too busy for this now, I’m going to put a follower or followers to buy what they can.”

Harry nodded his acceptance but then frowned.  
“If by a single follower you mean Brax, won’t it be too much?”

Tom wasn’t going to step back from this.  
“He made his bed, time to lie there.”

The memory of the _second choice_ passed between them.  
“Alright, but I wasn’t considering Mulciber or the others from school. Alphard and Zev spied on us too.” he put it slyly.

Tom saw the play but he wanted to reward that king of thinking.  
“Acceptable, but the main burden will be on Abraxas’ shoulders.”

Harry knew not to smile on his victory.  
“Alright, you said there was and another reason to avoid the school?”

“Indeed!” a huge smile had started forming on Tom’s lips; it was only slightly manic though.  
“We need a way to air the dirt on Dumbledore and maybe gain some leverage on Grindelwald, if we won’t kill him in the battle. What a better way to go for it than bringing Bathilda Bagshot to the school? So, interested for an exorcism of our own?”

Harry’s smile was as huge as his own.  
“Count me in!” then his lips formed a pout.  
“That was all?”

Tom was almost affronted.  
“Of course not,” he sat beside Harry, hugging him by the shoulders, and whispered to his ear.  
“There is always more.”

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS Edited at 10/22/2014
> 
> Please review to inspire me for more...


	12. Light and Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of politics, family history and bonding, intimacy, and training... not in that specific order...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi,  
> Missed this? I certainly missed all of you but it's only a week after the month deadline so I hope that you will forgive me:)  
> Anyway, I've given everything I had to hurry due to the incredible reviews of the previous chapter they really give me the streght and inclination to do my best:)  
> Dedicated as always to my friend Fictionist and again to [rightonthelimit](../../../../users/underxmyxumbrella/pseuds/rightonthelimit) (this is the part that I promised) all my respect to FirePhoenix8 too for she inspired me…  
> All my love to everyone:)  
> Krysania

**Chapter Twelve: Light and Dark**

_ **Harry’s pov** _

Harry couldn’t help but relax against the warmth of his partner and slipped his own arm around Tom’s waist. On the other hand he knew his lover enough to be instantly worried by the other’s tone. Tom sounded practically jubilant, by whatever his new scheme, which meant it was either highly ambitious, extremely insidious – or both – and he braced mentally for something unpleasant.

“So?” he asked lightly, “What’s the big deal?”

Tom smiled dazzlingly at him, which raised the danger sign a couple notches more.  
“Its looks like I won’t have the time I had anticipated to work on the Stone, so a returning visit to the Flamels’ is imperative before we’ll return to school. I don’t have the future’s freedom to come and go as it pleases me.”

Harry felt like someone had injected icy water on his veins. _It was bad enough to let them on their fate without the Stone, but so infinitely worse to hasten their end by violent means._ His arm fell from around Tom like it was lifeless.

Still his voice was casual when he spoke.  
“You visited the Flamels?”

Tom rolled his eyes.  
“How else was I to acquire the Stone?”

Harry gathered himself. _Tom hadn't killed them in the first place and_   _he would gain nothing by panicking.  
_ “I thought that you had broken in Gringotts.” _he had been way distracted last night, his mistakes were piling up_.

Tom appeared thoughtful.  
“It had crossed my mind, but my search showed no account to their names in the bank, but maybe it exist under their assumed one.” he smiled. “Care for a raid in such a case?”

Harry relaxed in the barest way. It didn't matter that it was probably the most dangerous thing they could do, _that kind of excited him if he was honest_ , _and left the couple alone, which was priceless_. Also, knowing Tom, he would plan for subtlety, _so no goblin will get much endangered too_.

“I'm in.”

But Tom didn't relax with his answer; instead he scrutinized him at top intensity.  
“You understand of course that if there is no account, or we’ll find nothing, an interrogation is imperative.” he pointed out.

Harry closed his eyes tightly; _he really feared that his lover would see it in that light._ All the same he was grateful too; he much preferred that brutal honesty than endless lies. Still, he wasn't going to give up, for anything.

“Not really, we’ll all work on this and even if you don’t manage to crack the Stone now, due to not enough time, you have Hermione to do it for you. She is much better at academics than battles anyway.”

Tom sent him an unimpressed look.  
“That’s hardly reassuring, I won’t count to another for such a task.” he drawled.

Harry returned the look, equally unimpressed.  
“Yeah right, she as good as you in academics and you know it, why else would you make such effort to gain her allegiance?  
Not to mention she busted her arse off too to help me.”

Suddenly Tom got up, looking too full of nervous energy to stay sitting.  
“I don’t care if she has the intelligence of Merlin himself I want that information yesterday.”

Harry had enough of this. He got up too, throwing his arms in the air from pure frustration.  
“Oh, for Salazar’s sake, Tom, it will be four bloody months till we’ll need it. And don’t tell me that you need to hurry up due to more freedom, we are booked up to the wazoo...”

Tom just looked at him.  
“It is too important a matter to let it wait.”

Harry bit his lips; he couldn't find anything to say in this but the truth.  
“I don’t want their deaths, especially on us.” he confessed.

Tom’s eyes softened a tiny fraction.  
“It will be only the last resort, but in case it will come to that we need to act now.”

“Why” Harry asked simply.

Tom sighed, like looking for patience, and started pacing around him.  
“I'm ready to even give them back the Stone for an adequate philtre quantity but I would prefer to go now before they consume any remainings.”

Harry didn't tense up; too used to the particular reaction, instead, with the other out of direct view, he beamed. _This was huge concession,_ _Tom must really want them alive too_ , but he still wasn't sure that it would work.

 _The Flamels had destroyed the Stone in his time to avoid it getting in the wrong hands,_ _but maybe it was only what Dumbledore told him not the truth... not_ _that_ _he would ever kn_ _e_ _w_...  
“I doubt that they really have any, as you didn't find it, but shouldn't we ensure our safety too? How did you find them anyway, was it Minerva?”

A shadow of a smile broke on Tom’s lips.  
“I could have missed something, and no it was your grandfather that told me, to save you.”

Harry was left literally with his mouth open. _Leonard had?_ As soon as comprehension set his mind started celebrating - _he had the perfect reason to avoid it for a long while_.

“Then we can’t attack them, not now. With so few knowing the secret and with us staying here it will be a piece of cake for Dumbledore to set the blame at once.”

Tom nodded once.  
“You have a point, it is too dangerous now, but I'm not going to give up, its t too important.”

Harry was getting beyond tired with this.  
“Will you drop it, we can find something else. I've already told you that I don’t want their death... I could always refuse drinking.” the last part was more than just idle pondering.

That got Tom legitimately angry, to a point well beyond glaring.  
“You wouldn't go that far, it would make their deaths and everything else meaningless.”

Harry knew that he was probably right; all the same he would rather die than admit it.  
“Try me.”

Tom threw a curse at him, which he deflected back.

That seemed enough for the other to get back his composure if not actual calmness.  
“I could always force you to drink it and then take the horcrux back.” it was more than simple threat.

Backed to a wall Harry dropped every pretence.  
“If it comes to this I would rather die, I agreed to something different not one of the same with me involved.”

That seemed to getting through on Tom.  
“If we do nothing you will die anyway.” he told him harshly but then softened.  
“But there will be no deaths... I'm certain that either Imperious or a psychotropic potion will give us the desired results.”

A dry chuckle came out almost out of nowhere.  
“This sounds so much better!” he commented drolly.

_Although, to be honest, Tom was trying, he could definitely give him that much._

Surprisingly Tom didn't explode with this and even reacted with some humour.  
“My very best! Anyway you can leave everything to me and stay here, or at the castle; you have my word that I will do everything possible to leave them alive and relatively unhurt.”

Harry blinked at him. _Everything possible not a definite_ , but he could understand why. His partner would certainly avoid a complete limitation, but he appreciated even this. Anyway it was the first part of the sentence that truly bothered him.

 _Why did he always ended hurt by Tom’s idea of mercy?_  
“No way, Tom, don’t be a twit. Of course I will come along.” and much, much, softer.  
“...no matter how it’s going to end.”

Tom’s lips twitched with this.  
“I thought that you couldn't deal with this side of business?” it was only half sarcasm.

Harry answered with complete honesty.  
“I don’t like it, this is not going to change, but you will do this for me... I can’t just pretend its not so and bury my head in the sand.” he smiled if only a little. “Anyway, you’ll need someone to make sure it will indeed be everything possible.”

Tom laughed openly with this. _It was mocking but with him not at him_.  
“You will not bury your head in the sand?” he laughed some more.

Harry wasn't bothered in the slightest. Tom used to call him Denial King for a reason.  
Still, the things he tended to deny usually ended up at his favour.  
“Not at this.” he told the other in all seriousness.

Tom seemed much better after his laugh.  
“Alright, we’ll talk about this again, for now let’s just sleep.”

Harry just looked at him, weirded by the concession, now that he had gotten him where he wanted.

Tom noticed.  
“As you have pointed out it’s too risky to hurry with this and its beyond idiotic to debate when we are tripping with fatigue.” a dry smile. “If things turn bad I won’t have you complaining that you agreed under duress. Now come to bed.”

A warm smile found its place at Harry’s lips. _No, this wasn't reassuring to the least,_ not even in accordance with Tom’s idea of mercy, but his partner had studied and learned what he could and couldn't handle and was applying it to the letter _._ Harry was strangely comforted with this.  
“Alright.”

* * *

~*~

* * *

Sleep came relatively easy on Tom, abetted by a heavy arm thrown around Harry’s middle, but Harry was troubled for at least an hour more and his dreams were anything but pleasant.

It had started enjoyably enough; a picnic in the garden with his new-found family, but things escalated just when he wasn't expecting it. Grindelwald and his followers attacked and started killing everyone. Harry tried to defend them but it was like he didn't have magic at all and he saw them die in the most horrifying ways possible.

It was as he helplessly watched little Annette get consumed by fiendfyre that Tom found him.  
“You are dreaming wake up at once.”

The pull of their link was enough to fight the nightmare’s hold and they both woke up with a gasp.  
“Sorry...I'm so sorry.” Harry couldn't stop trembling.

“Shut up.” Tom’s voice was mild and he pulled him on his chest until it stopped and even then he didn't completely let him go.  
“What happened? I caught only to the end.”

A deep breath, another...  
“I’d rather not talk about it.”

Unfortunately it rarely worked on Tom.

“You better, you don’t have nightmares all that often these days and this one was new, not to mention you couldn't wake.”  
Harry tried to disentangle from the other’s arms but Tom didn't let him.  
“I'm waiting...”

That got right on Harry’s nerves.

“You want to hear it, they died. They died in ways that would make an Avada look like sheer mercy and I could do nothing about it.” his voice broke, if only a little, and he tried for casual.  
“It’s not like you care.” it came out bitter.

He could feel Tom’s eyes skewering him even in the near complete dark  
“For them no, I don’t,” his voice was completely neutral.  
“What it will do to you though it’s a completely different matter.”

That literally stopped Harry’s breath; it was the closest thing he could ever hear to an actual love confession from Tom. It didn't comfort him though, it had the opposite effect. Harry lost the tenuous control he had on his emotions and his trembling returned tenfold.

Tom didn't say a single word just held him tighter. Finally Harry gathered himself again, enough to be able to speak.  
“I couldn't handle it if anything happens to them, not now that I got to know them.”

There was no derisive comment that he really didn't know them, as Harry half expected,  
instead Tom took a moment, stroking his hair, before speaking.  
“It was merely a dream, unless you managed to gain a Seer’s abilities, which is improbable. It means nothing **.-** ” curt, dismissive and certain.

Harry had enough of a mind to notice that he was still going easy on him, which meant that he was a basket case, but he was still beyond worried.  
“But I couldn't wake and took you with me too, almost like...” he couldn't finish.

“Stop it, just stop.” Tom’s voice was steel.  
“You forced Voldemort to merge with his horcruxes and I killed him, there is nothing left of him to hunt us.”

Harry’s thought run more towards the possibility the two elder wands creating a rift between him and Grindelwald’s mind,  
but Tom’s point was like oil on fire.  
“Are you sure? He could have made a horcrux the night before the battle and followed us.”

He could actually hear Tom gritting his teeth and felt the hold of those hands becoming painful; his voice was full of snark too.  
“Quite sure, I would have felt it if he had any hold to the mortal plane, and even if he had he would have been anchored there, incapable of going anywhere. The German won’t hurt them either.”

Harry tried to relax, a moment later Tom eased his painful hold and started speaking again.  
“I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, swear on my magic to protect those of the Potter family, if it is within my power, even the one currently imprisoned by Grindelwald. So mote it be.”

It was like someone had cut Harry’s strings, the tension left his body that fast, and he sagged against Tom holding for dear life. _It was more than just the oath, although it went many notches above the previous one, it was the fact that it was voluntary instead of a deal.  
_ “Thank you.”

“Oh shut up, I want to sleep. It’s a quartet to three.” there was a bit of laugh on Tom’s voice for all the bitchy tone.

A strangled laugh left Harry’s lips but it was relief, not hysterics.  
“Goodnight.”

Harry tried to sleep, he honestly did, but for all that the anxiety had left him he simply couldn't.  
“Harry..?” a clear warming for all the sleepy tone.

Harry tried to move further away, on the bed’s edge, to not impede the other.  
“I'm alright,” he told Tom softly, “just sleep.”

Tom didn't answer with words though. He took again on stroking Harry’s hair and, as it proved ineffective, turned it into a gentle massage to his scalp and moved it onto Harry’s nape, shoulders, and later his back.

Harry was on paradise, he would never even dream such tender treatment. Tom’s long capable fingers were lessening the stain to his muscles, bringing him to a state of absolute euphoria and easing him gradually to sleep...but, strangely enough, it also started creating a different kind of tension...

His partner understood that and his hands started wandering even more freely, but still tender. Harry returned the caresses as in a dream and they slowly passed from half awareness to sleep in something like bliss.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Harry was still floating as they finally made it down for breakfast – _not late yet, but notably the last ones –_ and so relaxed with said happiness that he forgot to really pay attention as he sat, a fact he instantly regretted. It was only the tiniest flinch, due more to surprise than any reaction to pain but it was noticed, at once, around the table to his utter horror.

He had to endure Leonard and Alphard’s wide grins (and Minerva’s fierce scold towards them.) Zev’s huge blush and Hermione’s introspective looks (she knew enough to guess it wasn't due the apparent reason.)  
 _Harry seriously thought about diving out of the window_...

The only ones not reacting to this were Annette, Dorea, and Brax.  
Annette because she was too young to have an idea what it could mean and Dorea and Brax due to incredibly good manners. Even Tom was hiding that infuriating half smile behind an equally infuriating faux-innocent expression.

 _He was enjoying his humiliation and Harry hated him for it_. He wanted to curse him, but he managed to do something worse: he masked everything down, ignoring him and the others completely.  
“Harry,” his head snapped up, “would you like some tea, or coffee like me?” she smiled kindly, encouraging him to relax.

Harry’s blush returned tenfold, but he couldn't help a tentative smile of his own. His great-grandmother, aka _‘if you don’t feel comfortable to address me as aunt yet, just call me Dorea’_ had been really kind to him so far.  
“That would be great, Dorea, thank you.” he had started to, really, like her.

Dorea served him the coffee herself, making him feel even more awkward with everything, but she didn’t try to engage him in small talk, for which he was frankly grateful. As the talk around the table slowly returned to normal Harry gradually relaxed and slipped back into his own thoughts. Only this time they were tending more towards turbulent than anything even distantly near to his previous, blissed out, state.

Now that his panic was easing down somewhat he could kind of see a bit of silver lining in their irritating assumption. It was still beyond humiliating, but also far better than the truth. Neither was he overtly surprised, or bothered, by Tom’s sadistic amusement on the whole thing.  
 _He was going to dice out his own retribution in a couple hours_.

On the other hand Harry had an excellent reason to be upset with himself and Tom, well mostly himself.  
It was bad enough that he literally melted into a puddle every time Tom explicitly expressed his desire and even accepted his axiom: that everything was and could be used as a power play between them, up to a point...

 _(Not that it stopped it from being at least half an excuse from the master of rationalization!)_  
...but it was beyond inexcusable to start by demanding equal footing and yet end baring his throat even further than before.

It wasn't really surprising that Tom used the offered weakness in the same night. His violent nightmare about his family _(I_ _t was almost impossible now to just call them ‘The Potters’ inside his mind_ _)_ was more than adequate excuse and Tom certainly needed to affirm himself after his own barring.

Harry would have been ecstatic with this kind of assertion, instead of the customary withdrawal, never mind consider uttering a single complain regarding the fact that Tom had broken the spirit of their deal... _And who the hell would have expected that Tom could really be so tender!  
_...If he wasn't almost sure, _now that he had a clear head,_ that it was done only to soften him up with his partner’s plans...

He felt acute disgust with himself. _There were lives to the line and he was still consumed with their love-life!  
_ _Although it wasn't completely hopeless, there was still some time, he had managed at least this much._  They weren't going to approach the Flamels until vacation’s last day or, _if he played his cards right_ , until the ides of April.

But delay was truthfully the best thing he could do for them. Unless Tom managed to crack the Stone a visit to the Flamels was inevitable. Worse so, unless they managed to find something worthwhile to offer, _and he wasn't sure he counted the Stone as such_ , the conclusion was already predetermined: torture, for the answers, and death, if they didn't manage to hide their identify.

Harry felt beyond nauseated with that idea, he wasn't sure that he could handle destroying innocent people, for a second time, so he could live.

 _The face of that girl, Tracy, still hunted his nightmares_ _and it wasn't going to leave him, ever. Never mind the Flamels, with their deaths already in his conscience._   _But no_ _,_ a part of him rebelled with the thought, _he had saved the Stone. Flamels’ death at the original timeline was on Dumbledore_.

And yet for all his utter disgust with himself, if the push came to shove he wasn't certain on what he’ll do. If it was a matter of only his own life the answer was beyond clear to him, but this was about Tom too. He knew perfectly well that even if he managed to smuggle the Flamels away, or even outright vetoed it, his partner was going to insist they process with the ritual anyway. Harry was never going to risk him in such a way.

Fleetingly he wondered, _if it was the start or middle of the slippery-slope._

Suddenly a small hand touched his arm startling him from his morbid thoughts.  
“Cousin Harry?” obviously it was the second time she had called him.

“Yes Annette?” he asked with a genuine smile.  
His little grandaunt looked like a perfect little lady, well almost; her hair looked ready to get away from her ponytail and her eyes were full of mischief.

Huge blue eyes peered at him, full of hope.  
“Yesterday, you promised to go flying with me, can we do it now, pretty please? You don’t have to leave until ten and it’s only eight thirty...”

Harry hid a smile at her open attempt on manipulation.  
“I would love to!”

 _Hell,_ _h_ _e really would!_

And could take a potion to avoid the unpleasant effects; he would rather avoid duelling with a bruised arse too, _Tom could just sit on said punishment_... He felt his partner’s eyes insisting on him... _He could also sit on his weird sexual fascination and enjoyment on said bruises!_  
Still, it was impossible to completely suppress a responsive shiver. _Damn Tom and his appetite for sadistic games to hell_ _too!_

But someone else disagreed too.

“Honey, would you really mind to delay it until tomorrow?” Dorea interfered softly. She regarded Harry.  
“I would like to show you some photos of James and maybe some family heirlooms too, if you don’t mind? I intended to do it yesterday but you seemed really tired to enjoy it.”

Little Annette looked utterly dejected but the mention of photos brightened her again.  
“Alright Mum.”

A block formed into Harry’s throat. This James Potter was definitely not his father but he still found himself profoundly touched by the gesture.  
“Could Tom and my friends come along too, please?” he didn’t really know why he asked it, _Tom certainly didn’t deserve it today_ , but he really wanted him and, if he was absolutely honest, needed him with him.

Dorea’s smile warmed even more.  
“I see no problem with this.”

* * *

~*~

* * *

 Five minutes later, when everyone was ready, they adjoined to the library and after Harry examined the family tree, which indeed included a Harrison James Evans Potter, (just a bit above Leonard and to the side but without a date of birth and unconnected to everyone) Dorea summoned the albums.

Firstly it was a couple of toddler pics, from both brothers, then early childhood images with their parents and finally the Hogwarts years. The elder James Potter, like his brother, looked a great deal alike Leonard, blue eyed and messy haired, but other than the last part and a somewhat similar body type Harry couldn't see any similarities with himself. He wondered why Leonard and Dorea were so hung on that he was his father, from what he gathered there were more, if distant, Potters.

That until one specific picture, from around fourth year, changed his perception somewhat...  
Harry examined better the photo trying to figure out the increasing feeling of familiarity. There was no visible explanation for it, James looked like he had defined far earlier than him from the gangly stage.

 _Maybe it was the Quidditch_.

His sort of ancestor was a Gryffindor player too and the pic was just before a match. He could unquestionably relate with this, but it definitely didn't explain Tom’s frozen stare. For a moment Harry was certain that it was nothing more than a ploy from his partner to gain more of the Potters’ sympathy but as the fascination remained unending he murmured “what,” and tried to see James from the other’s eyes.

Surprisingly, as he got where Tom was getting from, he could finally see it too. If one moved past the physical features themselves there were other factors too... There was no mistaking that stubborn tilt to the jaw, or the devil may care smile... Harry had definitely gotten more from his family as a whole than merely from whomever his father inherited his features.

He nodded his understanding, once, and passed the picture around.

When it reached Alphard his friend let out an almost Gryffindorish whistle.  
“Wow! I haven’t seen that one in ages but Harry is definitely a chip from the old block.” the admiration was honest even if the words themselves weren’t.

Harry glared daggers at him.  
 _He may not plan to tell them the whole truth, ever, that didn't mean he wanted to ply them with lies too_...

Alphard winced.

More pictures came, together with stories. An older woman, young Charlus with Dorea, and more and more of James accompanied by a handsome blond teen in a Durmstrang’s uniform, and even adult ones, most with James in Hit Wizard’s regalia and his subtle similarity to Harry emphasized more and more...also, the blond was still frequently there...

There were some more candid photos, teen and adult ones: in one they competed for the snitch and in another they held it together, laughing their arses off to the ground. Harry supposed that it was due to the slower brooms and cushioning charms that they ended down, unhurt, and able to laugh about it.

“Who is he?” he couldn't help but finally ask, although he already had a bit of idea.

Dorea smiled, kind of melancholic, but answered easily enough.  
“That was Axel. Your father’s, James, life partner.”

Harry had gotten past trying to argue the part, but he was definitely curious about the famous ‘Uncle Axel’ and the fact that he met James in Hogwarts while a Durmstrang student.  
“How did they meet, if I may? I didn't knew that the schools had any contact, unless it was the Triwizard Tournament.”

An expression of shock with a bit of revulsion crossed Dorea’s lovely face.  
“The Triwizard tournament?” she asked faintly. “Salazar! Where on earth did you hear about that antique thing? I don’t even recall how many people died to the last one, more than a century ago.” she gathered herself.

“No, it was the Triwizard Quidditch Tournament, the tradition that took its place. It happened every five years, up until ten years ago, when it was cancelled. Which is beyond pity, in my opinion, as it encouraged cooperation between magical communities in the premium way.”

Harry couldn't help but agree with her. While he understood why it was cancelled at the time it did, it was more than worthwhile as a tradition and he swore to bring it back if they truly ended up in power. Hermione looked she was absorbing the information and seemed more than ready to research something she couldn't find traces in Hogwarts at her time.

“Lady Dorea, would you mind sharing more at a later date about this intriguing tradition?”

Dorea’s slightly crossed expression turned to a genuine smile.  
“Gladly my dear girl.”

Meanwhile Brax was examining an adult picture with acute interest.  
“Excuse me, Lady Dorea, but would you mind sharing his surname? I have a strong notion that he is a distant relative of mine but I’m not completely certain.”

Something chilled a bit in Dorea’s face and it was mirrored at Leonard’s, but at the next moment she wore a perfect hostess’s smile.  
“Really, Mr Malfoy? His surname was Von Bernstorff, Axel Von Bernstorff.” her voice was polite but there was the barest hint of sarcasm.

Brax straighten his body even more.  
“Thank you madam, he was indeed a relative, second cousin once removed. My paternal grandmother was Gertrud Von Bernstorff.”

Harry was beyond uncomfortable with this; it was obvious that this was a very touchy point between the families but also truly strange, for up until now Dorea didn't have a single problem with Brax and Leonard never targeted him specifically with his teasing.

Tom on the other hand was beyond intrigued with this and even the others seemed to be paying more attention after hearing the whole dialogue.  
“Von Bernstorff?” he asked innocently, partly to appease Harry’s curiosity.  
“Weren't they one of the main Grindelwald supporters in Austria up until they broke off and he almost exterminated them six years ago?”

Harry was morbidly fascinated that Tom knew that kind of details, even from years before it had any personal bearing to them, and even more so because it had a direct connection to his family, but Dorea smiled with grim approval.

“It was indeed. Axel was the black sheep of that family, but they’d never forgiven the Dark Lord for killing him and tried to throw his hold over Austria but it was already too late, and they died almost to the last one. Richard, Axel’s brother and remaining survivor, brought us home James and Axel’s bodies and disappeared. Even I don’t know where he is, or if he is still alive.”

“He is alive,” Brax sounded certain. “Us, Malfoys, will never turn against family, for anything. I don’t know the specifics but I know that my family arranged his safety.”

A weight seemed to have lifted from Dorea’s shoulders and she regarded Brax far more warmly.  
“Thank you for telling me this Mr Malfoy, Abraxas, it’s a great relief.” she smiled.

Brax seemed to understand the meaning behind using his first name and he relaxed.  
“The pleasure is all mine; Lady Dorea.”

Dorea looked pleased and then like she was considering something. She looked from Abraxas to him and back again.  
“James and Axel are resting in Godric’s hollow, would you like me to take you on the weekend, or at another convenient date?” obviously meaning both of them.

Harry was touched, so far only Tom had done something like that for him and he had his own stake to the matter. This James wasn't his father but he wasn't going to say no in such a kind gesture.  
“We, – I – would love to.” he corrected looking sheepish; _he wasn't going to force Brax into such an obligation_.

It wasn't needed though.  
“It will be my honour.” Brax sounded at his most pureblood, a sly look towards him though, indicated that whatever his reasons it wasn't about obligation.

“I would like to pay my respects too.” Alphard added suddenly.

The declaration came quite as shock to the Potter matriarch. Dorea certainly didn’t seem to expect such show of open solidarity from her nephew, never mind the rest. But her Slytherin mask covered her emotions fast enough.  
“Anyone else planning to come?” she put it a bit dryly.

Tom smiled charmingly, shocking the Lady and Harry to their bones and nodded resolutely.  
“I would like it too.”

Hermione followed suit a bit more shyly. Harry’s eyes narrowed in suspicion and he examined carefully his partner. _There was a big catch here, no doubt about it. But what the hell could Tom gain by visiting that graveyard again? He was going to get bored to tears..._

Tom smiled leisurely at him, showing it was nothing to be alarmed about, but Leonard’s paling face offered a very different answer.  
 _‘You said that we won’t go near them for now?’_ it was the mental equivalent of a shout.

Tom’s smile turned mocking.  
 _‘Talk about trust, darling! I don’t plan visiting the Flamels yet, but there was a quite interesting grave there.’_ at Harry’s half intrigued/half distrusting look he added only a coy: _‘Later.’_

Harry accepted it for now.

Dorea, while still looking flooded from the massive reaction to her proposal, took notice of the strange, for an outsider, exchange but she didn't commend on it and made an effort to control things.  
“I suppose that everyone coming then...” a teasing smile graced her lips. “No need to ask you Minerva dear...”

Zevi sent a hurried glance towards Harry and nodded his assert too.  
“It’s a date then.”

Tom’s eyes focused on the grandfather clock on the wall and Harry looked there too: a quarter and nine. _Maybe they should leave now to make a good impression._ He got up.  
“We’d better leave.”

Dorea’s expression turned anxious.  
“Wait a bit, please.” she summoned another – _**huge**_ – leather brown book and handed it to Harry. “This is the Potter Grimoire, I wanted you to check this out too and maybe study it in your free time.”

Harry was way intrigued and touched; he couldn't help but stroke the cover. (decorated with the Potter crest) This book was full of enchantments, a clear indication of the powerful spells hiding inside it, but it wasn't the most important matter about it.  
 _This was the whole family story combined in a way, all the magic from its members, all their inclinations, their hopes and dreams_...

“Thank you.” his voice was trembling.

Dorea took a very serious, almost fierce, expression.  
“Think nothing of it, Harry, this book it’s your birthright and I think that it could really help you in the coming battle.”

Harry understood perfectly. He finally had the last piece to make out Dorea. His great grandmother was truly genuine with him but she was also a Slytherin, her main concern was the preservation of her loved ones at any means necessary. Harry was more than happy with that arrangement.  
“Thank you anyway...” a brief smile, “So... a bit of blood?” he spoke more to himself than her, this was the usual offering.

Dorea’s eyes turned just the slightest bit calculating.  
“No need, dear.”

Harry didn't even hear her, his attention was completely focused on the Grimoire. A drop of blood, quickly absorbed by the cover and he was lost inside. He was expecting light spells, powerful ones, but light none the less, however this book was a revelation.

Harry had found indeed beyond powerful spells and rituals, but it wasn’t just solely focused on light, greying, or even dark ones, they covered the entirety of the spectrum, every branch too, some of them totally unknown to him.  
This definitely changed his notions about his family.

“TOM.” he shouted in his enthusiasm, his partner definitely needed to see this.

Tom’s reaction was just as excited, if not more so, than his own. It would have required a deadly battle to attempt taking it from his hands, Harry had no such intention and they sat down, in the red loveseat, just browsing it out. They didn’t try to study anything yet; they just lost themselves in its intricate, precious, magics showing to each other their findings. If one had to estimate the grimoire’s worth only priceless sounded even close to right.

It was only the feeling that he had an impeding obligation and the complete silence that forced Harry to raise his head, Tom was still absorbed to their newfound treasure. Hermione was looking at the book with a ravenous expression, the closer thing to lust he had ever seen to her face. That was understandable.

 _H_ _er time was going to come soon too_...

But Leonard and Dorea’s reactions weren’t even nearly so. They looked so dumbfounded that you could swear that the sun was rising from the west, or something just as improbable. The others were just confused.  
“What’s wrong?” he asked quite concerned.

Dorea’s eyes were focused on his ring, or more accurately, unfocussed.  
“You are married!” she cried out.  
“Leo told me that you two intended to bond but not that you had already done so.”

Harry felt the intense heat rising up to his face, but he honestly had no idea what was her problem.  
“What?” he croaked; too shocked to use the manners his pureblood friends had insisted for him to cultivate.

_He knew that Tom’s insistence to not hide their rings in this house was going to bite them in the arse..._

His panic forced Tom to finally leave the book, with apparent regret, too.  
“Married you say, ma’am?”

Dorea took a fortified breath and seemed to get her mask back in place.

“Indeed, one of our stronger family traditions and a necessary precaution I fear. This book was specifically warded to never get viewed by anyone except a Potter, by either blood or marriage. The traditional hand fastings in all family history ensured it continued. The only exceptions were when the bride wasn’t trusted and the wedding was just a ceremony nothing else.”

 _So it was a final test_...

Harry didn't really mind and he finally had his answer to the why. _He had gotten parseltongue out of the horcrux, and maybe a leaning towards dark magic, it was only natural that Tom would get something equally heavy out of this too_. That didn't mean that was going to speak about it.  
“We are neither married nor hand fastened.”

“Yet.” Tom added with a too charming smile.

Harry wanted to face palm but limited himself on covertly glaring.  
 _If Tom involved the family to their mess there was going to be hell to pay...  
But enough was enough_.-

Without a word he took the book. _Time for a bit of testing of his own!_  
“Herm?”

Hermione looked uncertain but full of longing, she took a step forward. When neither Dorea nor Leonard protested he allowed her to look.  
A heavy disappointed sigh was her only reaction.  
“What do you see, Mione?”

Another heavy sigh...  
“Blank pages.” her dejection was so sharp that it constricted Harry’s heart.  
 _He was so going to find a way to give her access or at least share what he could._

Meanwhile Dorea was examining Tom in a way that could be called disturbing.  
“If you are not bonded with Harry, then how? Do you by chance posses any Potter blood, as in at all?” she asked trying to pass it for casual.

It wasn't just the question by itself... but the instant reminding on what this family could have been for Tom, if only they had a bit more backbone. Harry wasn’t the only one remembering. He could literally feel his partner’s rage spiking up, _not that he was the only one...  
_ But Tom managed to contain himself admirably; he only favoured his hostess with one of his most dangerous smiles.

“I shouldn't really know, being raised in a muggle orphanage and all,” he twisted the knife. Dorea had to close her eyes in shame and Leonard, the more informed one for once, understood the true danger and looked ready to either interfere or to pass out.  
Then Tom continued.

“But as I searched extendedly those things I can honestly state that I don’t have even a single drop. My mother’s family were the infamous Gaunts and my father’s, the Riddles, have an extended history of their own but entirely muggle I'm afraid. If there is a bit of relation it can only be traced to before the founders.” _which was honestly less than that what the entire magical community shared._

Dorea seemed to be fighting between relief and frustration.  
“Then I don’t get it, what kind of magical bond is this? It seems stronger than the legendary Soul-bond.” ...and yet you are a male couple... wasn't said but sounded clearly enough.

That was the strain that broke the camel for Harry. He liked Dorea more than fine, but his own frustrations pilled up.  
(he wasn't going to admit it even to himself but it was also a perfect distraction to get them away from examining their bond)

“And I don’t get why all that strain?” he answered in the same tone. “You accepted me into your family with open arms, more, you have given my relationship more than tacit acknowledgement, or even the outright ignoring, frequented in pureblood circles. Why, if its makes you uncomfortable?” he evened his tone. “If it’s about protecting you, you don’t have to. We can leave even right now and it won’t change a thing. I've already given my word to Leonard to protect you all and I’m going to keep it... Though, I would appreciate borrowing the book.”

No one dared to smile with the last part. Tom’s stony expression for all his affirmative nod had them to their toes.  
 _He supposed that his own angry outburst didn't help matters.  
_ Dorea wetted her lips.

“Harry I can swear to you, on my life and magic, that your orientation has no true bearing to me or affects my opinion for you, or my behaviour, nor said behaviour is actually relevant in your ability to protect us.” she took a deep breath, ready to continue. Harry both wanted to stop her and was entranced with her words.

“Yes, I have a problem with this, but it has nothing to do with you and your partner, this is about me...” she smiled sadly. “See, my husband and I were very much in agreement with the pureblood saying ‘out of sight out of mind’ regarding this matter and my husband had no problem to ignore everything, even host Axel in this very house, assuming James did his duty to the family too.” another breath.  
“James wasn't happy with this arrangement; he considered it a betrayal, which it wasn't far from the mark, considering Charlus’ help into misinforming their parents, especially their muggleborn mother, during their Hogwarts years, and so chose to leave, visiting only once in a while...”

Harry had started to truly see... he wasn't sure he liked it though...

Dorea continued speaking:  
“About eight years ago, when my brother in law died, my husband and I swore to ourselves and each other to never repeat that mistake again, no matter what. If our son or daughter turned out with alternative preferences we were going to respect it...”

Leonard let out a very embarrassed and childish complain with this...  
“Mum...” Dorea continued like if she didn't hear.

“We weren't going to put any kind of pressure to him or her, even if it meant that Annette’s husband –if she ever got one– was going to take the Potter name, or even that we were the last of our line. So, you see, you’d given us a chance to repent, if only to ourselves. Charlus is going to be truly happy, if only we’ll get him back.”

Harry was more than alright with this, even if it was kind of strange for him to help in another’s atonement.  
“We are going to get him back. If we’ll find him alive I'm going to bring him back, or else his body, that I swear.” he looked down.  
“I'm also apologizing for making you speak for those painful things, I was way rash in my reaction.”

Dorea smiled and it was real.  
“You had every right to hear them and I'm sure that my son has more than hinted for those facts already. In any case, I accept your apology, though it wasn't strictly necessary.

Harry smiled back.  
“No need for such things between family.” he returned and raised an eyebrow.

“So, any way to share the defence/offence spells at least? Tom and I are going to do excessive damage in Nurmengard but imagine how much more devastating we are going to be if our friends, and even the aurors, attack in such ways too.” barely remembering to add.  
“I'm sorry if I sound disrespectful.”

Hermione, whom so far pretended to not hear, trained hopeful eyes to him. Dorea, to her credit, thought about it.  
“I'm not that sure, not that I don’t want to help, but it could be dangerous for you.”

“Maybe not mother.” Leonard added, sounding on fire.  
“Harry hadn't taken the oaths we did; he may be able to pass them on.”

“Out of the question.” Tom cut him harshly.  
“It sounds too dangerous for him.”

Harry could bet that a desire to keep that incredible magic private played its part too, except protectiveness alone,  
but he was touched all the same.

“I'm going to study all the rules and consequences and then decide.” he compromised.  
“Still, is there no other way to share this even with one person?” he asked one last time.

Leonard smiled at Hermione seeming to understand where this was heading.  
“Well, as marrying her is out, you can either blood adopt her or make her your blood-sister. I have been considering doing it with Min some years now.” Minerva swatted his arm but looked touched and more than interested.

“Out of the question.” Tom repeated. _It was getting tiring._

 **“** **Why?”** Harry questioned, barely holding back his annoyance.

Tom had the nerve to look disappointed that he didn't get it.  
 **“Think darling. Such an act could have disastrous complications to our plans.”**

A feeling of dread filled Harry, Tom had said plans not plan, he didn't like where this was heading at all.  
 **“** **I don’t care, it’s my decision. Hermione has stood by me on hell and high water for years now, my sister in everything but blood. Its not only about giving her access on the grimoire I want that, I just didn’t know that it could be done.”**

Tom examined him carefully, not pleased but far from livid, he had already started calculating.  
 **“It is probably going to be quite the stir, at year’s end, when her final marks return to Hermione Evans or Evans-Potter.”** he told him neutrally.

Harry felt the faintest sting of anxiety by hearing this, _he hated it when the public stuck its collective nose to his business,_ but he ignored it, he had learned to deal with this.  
 **“** **It could work to our favour; Salazar knows that our surnames could change too after our ritual, it will be a good diversion.”**

 **“** **True.”** Tom smiled and nodded his assert. **“Very well, I will support you in this. If it leaks out that she is your sister the plan will continue as it is. If the leading rumour comes out that you married her, you will be in charge of our cover.”** he offered his terms.

 **“** **Agreed.”** Harry couldn't help a sigh of relief. _He had finally dodged this bullet.  
_ Then Tom continued.

 **“** **I had concluded that you would be the one to sire our children, to be sure of their health, and then blood-adopt them. But I suppose the opposite can work too. Well not the opposite exactly, but it’s a liveable compromise.”** he delivered those in the most casual way possible.

Harry wanted to scream in frustration, _he hadn't dodged the bullet at all._  
 **“Tom,”** he started in near panic. **“I don’t need or even want something like that.”**

Tom’s smile was almost affectionate for all its dangerous edge.  
 **“You better stop lying to me so openly, love. Of course you need it; there is no question about this. As for wanting it, you may not, yet, but it will come.”**

Harry wanted to strangle him, _especially considering that there may be only one shred of truth to his words._ _ **One.  
**_ **“When hell freezes over.”**

Tom’s expression turned both arrogant and serene.  
 **“I can wait.”**

Harry was barely a step before homicidal but, as it was nearly coming to Tom getting what he deserved and shielding the others Leonard saw fit to interfere.

“Hey guys no need to fight over this.” he saw no curse coming his way and continued. “You, Harry, want to share the spells with everyone present, correct? And you, Tom, don’t want to risk him, right?”

Harry stared at his grandfather with admiration.  
 _That was what was making him a Gryffindor, not his bluntness or anything else so much, as this bravery to interfere into something that could literary demolish him like a twig to protect the others present!_

He shared a look with Tom. _No, it wasn't anywhere that simple, but the other matter was personal and had nothing to do with here and now._  
“Yes.” they said together.

Leonard beamed.  
“Then hear me out. We are going to undertake the fraternity ritual, you with Hermione and I with Min. Alphard will marry traditionally Minerva and Zev Hermione. The only remaining is Brax, with whom I suppose I can undertake the ritual once more, he is sort of family too... Problem solved.”

Harry wasn't sure what to think in this. _It was an oversimplified solution no question about, though he supposed that it could work. But he doubted that it could be done before the battle or that the others wanted to hurry anyway. He was going to talk with them later_...  
Still it was kind of funny to watch the others’ reaction. 

Alphard looked eager like a puppy, Minerva looked stern, but was actually frozen, Hermione and Zev were a marching red and Brax looked confused if it was a step up or down...

Tom leaned towards him, barely hiding his amusement, both for the plan and the various reactions. He examined Abraxas.  
 _‘If you want him as a family member you can always marry him to the little mess later on.’_ he teased, indicating the littlest one present.

Annette’s hair were undone from her hair tie and messy as Harry’s for all the longer length. She may appear aloof to the adult matters discussed here, interested only in her fairytale book, but he could swear that her attention was truly focused on them and she seemed to straining her ears towards hearing more.  _It looked like a tendency in the family_...

Harry was still pissed with Tom but he held back a laugh with the mere idea.  
 _On pureblood mentality it was a great idea but on a personal level he was never going to even think about it until Annette was old enough to form a valid opinion, even if Brax favoured it. Never mind that for all he didn’t care about Lucius he owed it to Draco to get born._

‘ _Nah, I would prefer not, for various reasons.’_ he answered him truly serious about it.

Tom still didn’t lose his amusement.  
 _‘You are right, he does not deserve her; we are going to find her someone better.’_

This time Harry couldn’t help a laugh at the thought of Tom as matchmaker, but it drew Leonard’s attention to them.  
“So, what you two think?”

Harry weighted it for one last time  
“It’s a good plan...”

“...for a Gryffindor.” Tom couldn’t help but add his piece.

“...for a Gryffindor...” he agreed...

“Wait.” _...but it wasn’t to continue_...

Dorea’s almost agonising voice cut him mid-phrase. It was then that Harry understood his mistake. He had taken her calm expression and the fact she didn’t contradict Leonard, both times, as tacit acceptance, now he could see that the woman had been actually shell-shocked. At his questionable gaze his great-grandmother seemed to visibly put herself together. After a bare second there was nothing of said anguish marring her beautiful face and she seemed to choose her words very carefully.

“Harry, I won’t deny that there are spells here that could really help in the fight against Grindelwald, nor I could stop you from adding your close friends into the family if you chose to. Even if couldn’t understand such a desire on your part, or planned only to use you, I wouldn’t be able to do so. This book is your birthright.” she opened her arms in a wide gesture. “Your blood, power, and Leonard’s oath made you the de facto Head of this House, and I honestly doubt that even my husband’s return will change that fact.” a small breath.

But I’m asking you to really consider it.” a long pause. “It’s not a matter of fear that the family heritage will fell into alien and maybe undeserving hands; Alphard is my blood and I love Minerva as such. Also, I have the best of impression for your friends, the little that I got to know them. But this Grimoire it’s not only about powerful spells and rituals, but extremely dangerous secrets and truths holding from before Merlin. Things, that my son shouldn’t have disregarded that easily. So please, study it with the utmost seriousness and weight things beyond careful before deciding.”

Harry couldn’t help himself but look at her totally incredulous.

It wasn’t only the things she was insinuating that truly shocked him _(_ _and he really didn’t need an open link to his partner_ _'s mind_ _this moment_...he was getting dizzy with the other’s calculations and conclusions... _not that he didn’t came up with more than a few himself_ _)_ but more so the words themselves and the matter of fact deference...

 _Leonard’s regard to him was one thing but his mother’s quite another_...  
Dorea really consider him a Lord! He forced himself to calm the hell down and deal with it.

 _Dorea wasn't much different than Narcissa Malfoy truly, only at a more difficult position, and with a vast understanding regarding Potter men._    
The last thought relaxed him a bit.

 _She wasn't just surrendering power over her family to him but taking him into said family. Her openness and imploring to his honour warranted that he could do nothing but go along with her; even the way she brought up the secrets ensured that Tom wasn't going to share them, ever._      
 _An excellent Slytherin manipulator, truly!_

Equilibrium fixed, he smiled at her.  
“I understand completely, Dorea, and I swear to never disclose even one family secret unless it’s absolutely necessary.” he had learned a bit about semantics.

He could feel the other’s approval. Tom added his on part.  
“Unless necessity forces me to break it, you have my solemn oath too.”

Dorea relaxed too after their oaths and if there was a problem with the loophole she didn't show it.  
“Thank you gentlemen I know that I really could count on you two and your discretion.” the last part was a tiny bit pointed, although not maliciously so, more like confused and calculating, her eyes moved from one to the other.

Harry was puzzled with that, _she hardly know any of their secrets, none that she could disclose too_. Tom’s combined amusement with irritability didn't help matters, but then he realised that they had spoken parseltongue, quite unguardedly, to her presence and his cheeks heated up.  
– _He honestly didn't want to think about her current opinion about his lineage.–_

Hastily he tried for a distraction; it wasn't long till he fount it. Leonard looked both terribly disappointed that he wasn't able to help and quite horrified at what kind of secrets he was unthinkably ready to unleash in case it helped his father.  
“I'm a fool.” he said the moment their eyes met. Harry found himself comforting the other without much thought and a hand to his shoulder.

“No, your plan had true merit, but we are not that desperate to use it. Your heritage doesn’t need to get compromised or sacrificed.”  
he stressed on the pronoun.  
 _He wasn't going to take the other’s rights._

Leonard understood his meaning.  
“Our heritage.” he insisted.

Harry found himself agreeing, touched by the other’s warmth.  
“Thank you, it means a lot.”

Leonard looked the tiniest bit uncomfortable.  
“You said it yourself, no such thing inside family!” then his frustration returned.  
“There must something else that could help with our chances and aid the aurors too.” he added openly aggravated.

“I'm sure that you will find something.” Tom smoothly interfered to their talk before Harry tried for another placation. The ‘or else’ was of course heavily implied but for once instead of simply scaring Leonard it made him think and gotten him right to his ‘eureka’ moment.

His face lightened.  
“I think that I've got an idea.”

Harry continued glaring. Tom nodded him with his eyes to continue.

“This house is of full magical artefacts and commodities from around the world, like flying Persian carpets, protective amulets, or various trinkets for magical storage and the like. Even some of my father’s prototypes, things that he wasn't ready to bring on the market yet but would work wonders on a battle with some work. Everything is at your disposal.”

Harry felt a huge smile forming to his lids and his enthusiasm held no bounds. This was easily as useful as the grimoire and maybe even more practical... _It could be useful to the aurors too..._ He could feel that his partner was just as excited and maybe even more so, as it tapped right into his scholarly side. He was beyond curious regarding that part too, but his practical part won over everything else, for now...

They shared a smile. _If it was as good as promised, Grindelwald was for many nasty surprises_... They needed to check it as soon as possible.  
“Excellent work!”

Leonard’s eyes nearly bulged.  
He certainly didn't expect such high praise from Tom. He barely managed a “Thank you.” but his chest puffed with pride.

Truth to be told neither did Harry, but even if it – _definitely–_ had something behind it, it didn't change the fact that it was more than well deserved for today.  
“Indeed amazing work! Thank you Leonard!”

This time his grandfather took it calmer, although still blushing a bit. But a fierce light came from his eyes.  
“Don’t thank me, the bastard killed my uncle and took my father, I'm going to do my damnest to pay him back.  
This is not only a matter of Aurors and power games, Grindelwald is going to ruin the day he heard the name Potter.”

Harry could definitely agree with this. He felt their shared blood surging forth and he never felt closer to Leonard as much as he did now.  
“It is going to happen, that much I swear.” he answered meaning it to his core.

“Hero, did you check the time?” Tom’s lilting voice brought him back to earth.

Harry’s eyes snapped up... _He knew that had forgotten something_...a quartet to ten...  
 _Wait...a quartet to ten?  
_ “Crap!”

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

With a bit, _well_ _a lot,_ of effort they managed to be in the Auror department right in time and not look too rushed too.  
 _It was the start of a long day_...

It wasn't that the aurors were exactly hostile; more like uncertain, towards them, but the fact was that even the Minister’s Undersecretary couldn't bring them forth as anything else but volunteers, _which strictly speaking they were,_ and they spent the first hours of their training working alongside cadets with the most basic of exercises.

That unflattering estimation to their talents went up in flames soon enough; he and Tom had spent almost their every free hour training since they got back in the past and it was showing, even with totally lawful curses and almost no dark arts. Their friends had put almost the same hours and were beyond justifying their presence too; even Leonard was doing much better in the controlled circumstances of the Aurors’ gym. They busted the rookies up and moved to the experienced aurors soon enough.

Things gotten much better after this...

There was a unanimous silent agreement to let him as the only person facing Tom on one to one and vice versa and even to keep them in different fractions at the mock battles for a bit of balance. Harry enjoyed himself immensely with this and even got the chance to finally pay Tom publicly back for what he had suffered the last days.

The fact that they were dealing mostly with light stuff was clearly to his advantage, though to be fair his partner had gotten way better at light magic the last few years and he needed all his concentration to keep on beating him in duel after duel.

But his duels with Tom weren’t the only exciting thing of the day. They had started focusing on strategy more and more and were even taught some Auror exclusive tricks. Harry truly loved the new things he was learning and some of the advice was downright useful and wasn’t found in any book, only life.

Most of the aurors were quite impressed with them, especially after their first duel, but Senior Auror Bones, Moody’s temporally replacement, was looking at them disquietly and with a constant deep line between his eyebrows, a feature that deepened the more hours passed. Harry’s first impression of the man was that he didn’t quite like them and the way he kept looking at them and yet avoided their eyes made him worry that Amelia had spilled the beans into her family too, not just the school.

If that was the case they were literally busted. There was no future for him in the Auror corps and even Tom was going to have a problem with any work at the Ministry... If it got leaked their political dreams were literally ashes. Harry was beyond horrified by the implications and consequences of such a thing.

_Not that there was a chance that Tom was going to break them up to avoid it and he wasn't sure if he should be touched or terrified by this, (he was both) but the fact remained that even if he attempted it himself it was going to do more harm than good anyway._

There was of course and another dangerous possibility that of her family figuring out that she was under a curse. One boyfriend, (even prospective fiancé) or even two, leaving her was nothing truly peculiar, for all that she was pretty, but Amelia was a very level-headed witch and yet she had hexed Tristan Davies to an inch to his life.

That wasn’t going to remain unnoticed, or quiet, and a thorough examination at St Mungo was going to reveal things. It was perhaps impossible to outline the exact curse, except by its symptoms, but if the healers managed to seclude that it was from parseltongue then it was a year into Azkaban added to the deal.

 _Damn Tom and his vicious possessiveness to hell and back!  
Such games were too risky to come against close scrutiny... _ _H_ _e needed to find Amelia soon, preferably alone, and free her from the curse..._

Maybe Harry was getting really paranoid with this but for now it was imperative to take the Auror outside for some damage control, he was doing everything he could to keep the link closed and his thoughts only for himself, but by the converted looks he caught the other giving it was obvious that he had come to the same conclusions himself.

 _He needed to interfere –fast–_ _B_ _efore Tom decided that the Auror needed to die_.

His chance came faster than he anticipated; Auror Jasper Bones approached him at lunch’s break.  
“A word, Evans, if I may?”

“Certainly sir.” Harry hastened to agree with a professional smile.

Tom looked like he would love nothing more than a chance to take part into the discussion, but thankfully he was busy into an intense talk with the aurors and cadets, one that his firm polite mask was forbidding him from interrupting.

The temporally chief Auror led him somewhat away from direct sign and set privacy wards, very strong ones, if Harry had to judge them. He didn’t waste time in addressing his problem too.

“What exactly do you plan on achieving by coming here?”  
 _Bad, bad, start_...

“Sir?” Harry tried for innocence but it wasn’t his stronger suit.

Auror Bones looked frosty but not completely hostile. Still he tried to intimidate him by using his towering height and bear like physique. That method, together with his considerable magical power, must have frequently positive results – _too bad it wasn’t working on Harry..._

“Don’t play games with me, Evans, I hate deceit. You two – together – were able to face thirty aurors and win – holding back I may add. Hell, you two proved equal to the Dark Lord too. Auror academy can offer absolute nothing to you or Riddle so what on earth do you truly want?”

Harry’s first reaction was relief; the man may have been suspicious but he didn’t have anything concrete. Still he showed absolute nothing and kept the link completely close, no matter Tom’s insistence, it was too soon for anything else.

“You named our reason to be here, sir. I won’t deny the – at least – passing thought of becoming an Auror but I can honestly state that we are here to nail Grindelwald, nothing else.” he stated everything meeting the other’s eyes; his shields were still in place but leaving no doubt that he was honest, the Auror did the same.

Unfortunately his mind was too fortified for Harry to break in without his awareness. He allowed a smile.  
“Also, I can’t say that I've learned nothing today.” the compliment came relatively easy as it was quite true.

The grizzled Auror laughed a bear like laugh but it didn't held much mirth.  
“I believe you, boy, but that doesn't mean I can fully trust you.”

Harry hated to be called boy, for obvious reasons, but that was nothing compared to the rest, he kept his composure by the skim of his teeth.  
“What on earth do you mean sir?” thankfully the circumstances allowed for some of his anger to be seen.

The Auror examined him like a hank.  
“What reason do I have to trust you, kid?” he capitalised at their dissimilar statuses. “With your stunt in Hogsmeade Grindelwald will be definitely after your skins but that doesn't mean that you lot won’t simply use my aurors as shields, letting them to take all the heat.”

Harry cursed inwardly a blue streak and cranked his occlumency shields all the way up.  
 _The Auror was either playing at his game or they were in worse shit than he thought.  
_ “With all due respect, sir, this is a load of crap. Where did you come up with these serious but completely dumbfounding charges?”

 _If it was due to Dumbledore Tom wasn't going to kill him, as he was gunning, Harry was going to wriggle his bony neck by himself_...

Another bear like laugh.  
“I wasn't born yesterday, Evans. Today you were good, no doubt about it, but it bears no contest to what you did in Hogsmeade, I saw the results. Now tell me again what you need my aurors?”

Harry’s fury spiked into dangerous heights. _This sounded way too familiar for his tastes._

“I see your point now, Auror Bones, but it won’t do. Four days ago we survived by the skims of our teeth against Grindelwald and now you belittle and distrust us for seeking backup, less than a dozen teens and all but one's without having finished our formal education. Excellent point indeed! We can definitely count on you...” he turned to leave.

“Evans.” the Auror croaked, he definitely wasn’t laughing anymore. “What will have me do? You, the girls, and Potter are the only Light wielders of your company, but you can hardly be classified a Light wizard and the Potters are considered entirely Light only the last five generations or so.” a frustrated breath.

“The rest of your friends are the heirs to the most prominent Dark families and Riddle a category by himself; there are already whispers regarding him. No, the strange part is that you are fighting against Grindelwald instead on at his side.” a pointed glare.

“Take the last part back, sir.” it came out as a hissing order, the honorific close to an insult.  
“My friends and I are loyal British subjects and not traitors.”

The chief Auror froze but to his honour he neither blustered nor flee from what he saw to his eyes.  
“I apologise,” he answered stiffly; “I had no intention to slight you or your friends.” strangely he was honest.

Harry nodded his acceptance. His rage had cooled down, crystallizing into one single point, and so allowing him to remain in complete control of himself. He could undeniably see Dumbledore’s fingerprints in this misconception but that didn’t discount the Auror’s game.

“But I don’t understand why you are continuing this sir, I already agreed to leave.” seeing Bones’ shocked look he decided to drop some masks and shake things, just in case he could fix that damaging belief.

“It’s exactly that specific mentality that has kept our people divided for centuries now. With half the population alternatively subjugated of its natural magic it’s almost logical of them to turn on a foreigner overlord to regain their rights. It sounds to me as either a half arsed excuse or a self fulfilled prophesy, take your pick. In either case an excellent work by the Ministry!”

The Auror definitely didn't expect such an opening but accepted even this with equanimity, for all his bluing colour, and only blinked rapidly trying to find something to answer.  
“They are hardly half the population.” he tried to misdirect.

Harry smiled, it wasn't pleasant.  
“Even so, does that gives the Ministry the right to oppress them?” he was frankly surprised that the other hadn't shouted to get him arrested.

Astonishingly the Auror laughed again, this time it was actually mirthful.  
“Ami was right; you are the most outspoken Slytherin one can hope to meet!”

Harry didn't know what to make of this. Amelia’s mention could be either a threat or something positive;  
he wasn't sure for all the approving tone.  
“Your point sir?”

The chief Auror gave him a look, one that examined his soul without occlumency.  
“Give me something that I can trust, your word of honour that whatever you will learn with us will not get used to take the Ministry after Grindelwald’s threat is over.” Bones opened his cards.

Harry could hardly disagree with that. He was ready to offer and sacrifice many things to avoid a forceful take over, that didn’t mean that was going to do it easily, as it would weaken their position too much in such a case.  
“I would gladly do it with some terms.” he stated.

Bones’ eyes narrowed.  
“Like what, Evans?”

Harry was ready.  
“Like allowing us to fight with what comes more natural to us and not prosecuting us for this when everything is said and done.”

The Auror considered this furiously.  
“I will talk with the Undersecretary and we’ll approach the Minister. But it will not be a carté blanche and I won’t condone sick thrills. Stick it to Grindelwald, his soldiers, or spies. But the last category will need confirmation by veritaserum.”

Harry had no problem with any of this; it was in fact far more generous than what he expected, especially considering that look in Bones’ eyes. _Definitely suspicious!_ He vowed to free Amelia post haste.

“Do that, sir, and you’ll have my solemn oath, I don’t approve of sick thrills.” _he should stop there, it was a good place_...  
“But that doesn't mean that the dark arts consist only of those, or even mainly, it’s just another way to do things, its not evil.”  
... _but he never knew when to stop anyway._

Weirdly, the Auror smiled kindly.

“I may not find anything wrong with your opinions, Evans, I may even agree with you to a point, but the fact remains that most dark arts are against the law. If I caught you –or anyone– practising them, excluding the aforementioned circumstances, expect me to fight you, doubly so if you ever try to take the Ministry by force to change things.” he drew his line.

Harry found himself genuinely smiling.  
“What about the political approach?”

Lord Jasper Bones of the House Bones regarded him solemnly.

“If you someday come into position to bring your ideas into the Wizengamot or the House of Lords I will definitely hear them and if they are fair, and not just leaning the scales towards the other side, House Bones will vote them, on any subject.” he smiled, almost teasingly on the last part, but it lasted a bare second and he returned on his sombre countenance.

“But it should happen fairly, no extortion, or Imperious.”  
Harry beamed, this went much further that he could ever hope from House Bones.

“Thank you, Sir, I truly appreciate your support and you won’t find a reason to retreat it.” and, both because there was no pounding to his head anymore and he wanted to be equitable, added.  
“But to be fair too it’s not only my ideas. Mr Riddle has half of the ideas to the very least.”

The senior Auror’s eyes frozen over.  
“I don’t doubt it, Mr Evans, but until a specific purpose is met Mr Riddle is a persona non grata to my family, except in this chamber or a battlefield. It’s only due the fact that I consider it immaturity and not maliciousness that I won’t take specific acts.”

Harry turned faintly green.  
“I see.” it looked like every mask had fallen.

The old Auror’s eyes sharpened even more, if it was possible.  
“My niece sent very flattering letters the previous year regarding you, I usually agree with her judgement but in this case I wonder if she was wrong, time will tell.”

That hurt, for all that he understood the other’s point, – _H_ _e hadn't freed her the moment he learned the truth after all –_  and he blushed in shame.  
“I have nothing but respect for Amelia and House Bones. For all its worth, I'm sorry.”

The other’s expression softened a bit.  
“You are honest,” he observed, “maybe Amelia wasn't that wrong...  
Apology accepted.” he concluded formally.

“Thank you sir.” Harry was very relieved but also had started to worry with the other’s observations.  
 _Maybe he shouldn't have been that honest_...  
The Auror noticed.

“Mr Evans, Harrison, my niece cried her eyes out the previous Easter, but it’s much preferable to cry once than for her whole life. I don’t believe that the law should interfere in the bedchamber regarding consenting adults and I will never search or disclose something of that nature.” a truly devious smile...  
“That would have changed of course if you had tried to marry her.” he left with that comment and another bear like laugh.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Harry’s relief and bewilderment lasted only a moment, Tom was waiting at the corner.

He exchanged a frosty nod with the Auror and the next moment he was regarding Harry with almost reddish eyes but he didn't look angry exactly... It was something else.  
 **“** **How much did you hear?”**

Tom smirked.  
 **“Everything.”**

Harry managed to not gulp or wince.  
 **“I'm surprised you aren't mad.”**  he added offhandedly; although he didn't believe it, he could bet that his friend was going to pay him back shortly.

The smirk shifted more towards a playful smile.  
 **“Why shouldn't I? It was your right and I trust you to represent us.”** matter of fact tone, honest eyes.

Harry was suddenly light-headed.  
 **“You do?”** in some small part of his mind knew that he sounded like an idiot, but at the moment he was too overwhelmed to care.

Once again Tom raked him with his eyes.  
 **“** **Indeed, and you didn't disappoint me. You were a bit too sanctimonious and honest for my tastes at times but, other than that, utterly magnificent!”**  this time Harry managed to decipher that look; it was ravenous hunger...

Harry’s light-headedness returned tenfold, this time he couldn't breathe too.  
 **“Thanks, I think...”** he tried to joke ignoring it and his furious blush.  
But the heavy compliment had him smelling a rat.

 _Even if Tom truly approved of his_ _handling there was no chance to overlook, never mind forgive, that he tried to keep him completely away. He only hoped that his partner was going to keep the specific_ _fight for a private place_...  
 **“** **If you trust me that much, what are you doing here?” i** nfuriatingly, Tom had the correct answer ready too.

 **“** **Your anger spiked, dangerously so. I considered it neither time nor place for us to collect Auror pieces from the ceiling.”** Harry had absolutely nothing to say in this and then Tom dropped his bomb.  
 **“He knows too much though.”**

Harry’s last vestiges of pleasure evaporated; his blood started pounding almost murderously and the fact that he was already annoyed, due to Amelia, didn't help matters.  
 **“** **I won’t let you hurt him.”** it was a simple fact.

Tom accepted it easily enough and nodded.  
 **“As long he won’t make a move against us he is safe.”**

Normally Harry would have accepted it, more or less, but not now.  
 **“Enough is enough, Tom. You will not hurt that family, no matter what.  
You have done them enough.”** it was an order hissed with conviction.

Tom’s eyes flashed deadly but he kept control.  
 **“Think so, darling? I believe it was well deserved.”** Harry didn't back down and Tom’s lips tightened.  
 **“I take it they are under your protection.”** it wasn't a question.

Harry answered anyway.  
 **“** **Yes.”** he tried to make Tom see his point.  **“I respect Auror Bones, he is truly righteous...the whole family are. Even Amelia was the most honourable person in the Ministry, up my time. We need such people.”**

_He was going to be in hot water...for a long time...but it needed to happen._

Tom nodded his acceptance, _but of course he wasn't going to leave it as such._ **  
“Should I worry about the esteemed Auror? Usually I need hours to convince you for something and you fallen almost backwards to do his biding.”**

Harry didn't know if he wanted to laugh, gag, or get angrier.  
 _He didn't miss, of course, the deadly seriousness behind the humorous tone, but he had started to suspect that the irrational jealously was nothing more than an excuse for Tom to curse those he disliked and get away with it too_...

Knowing he was throwing oil on fire he chose to do neither and didn't back down. **  
“Hardly, but he is right, you need to stop cursing people, for a while at least.”**  
The silence was deafening, deadly.

 **“** **Are you under the impression that I should try for sainthood, just like you, because I'm marrying you or do I need to remind you of your own oath and the consequences should you chose return to the Light?”** there wasn't even a hint of understating to the other’s eyes, his face was stony and totally adamant.

Harry’s answer was instant and just as uncompromising.

 **“** **If you force me into a position to chose, I will just leave politics** **–** **and you – staying neutral and protecting my friends the best I can.”** it was only after he uttered his own impasse that he realised that may have hurt Tom’s feelings, as crazy or impossible it was sounding, so he tried to ease the sting, making his point too.  
 **“But I don’t want it, nor do I believe that I asked for something completely irrational.”**

 **“** **I believe you called them sick thrills.”** Tom’s voice was pleasant, his eyes anything but. He wasn't backing down either. Harry tried again.

 **“** **Look Tom, I've never called it that to your face, and if you are sick once, for doing it, I'm twice so, for enjoying it. Nor I'm expecting you, or frankly want you, to change, but we have an arrangement and it’s not only a matter of my sensitivities, as you would put it...”** he examined the other to see if his words had any effect. – _D_ _id he detected any tiny softening on Tom’s face?_ He wasn't sure.

 **“** **I won’t say it doesn't bothering me, when you get too far, but I'm far more concerned in the risks that you are taking. You are getting reckless, Tom.”** Harry had opened his heart completely and spoke exactly as he felt, without guile.

**“ **It was one thing when you were one student among many, no matter how popular, but now we are already** **on the papers** **–** **public figures** **of a sort.** **Our campaign has already started and there is no way that you will get away with such close scrutiny. We barely avoided a blood feud, I doubt it will happen a second time.”****

Tom examined him for a long while, then his lips curled just so and Harry wanted to hit his head at a wall. _He had aroused the other’s competitiveness_ _ **–**_ _they were screwed_...

 **“** **So you think that I'm too reckless and can’t effectively hide?”**  he teased but continued before he could answer, this time deadly serious.  
 **“I didn't like it, how ready you were to take the Auror’s side against me, but you have some point and I will think about it...”** Harry barely held a relieved sigh; this was the closer that Tom was going to come into acquiescing.

_Even if he ended just being more careful it was going to be a relief._

...He was again robbed for a chance to reply, said Auror’s thunderous voice made sure of this.  
“Boys, the break is over. If you want to fight, take it inside the platform.”

But Tom didn't seem completely satisfied with this conclusion to their talk and baited him with another bone-melting blood-burning smile...  
 **“...By the way did you just openly admitted getting off to this?”**

Harry groaned.  
 _This was pure hell; he could maybe get out of the doghouse some day... but this... Tom was never going to forget it, or stop using it, not even in a billion years_...

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS Edited at 11/11/2014  
> Please review to inspire me for more...


	13. Gifts or something...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It started about finding Christmas gifts for his friends but it ended as something very different....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Hi**  
>  it was supposed to be here 20 days ago and with a dual pov but my life became extra complicated so you will have to content yourselves with this for a little while…  
> That said this chapter totally surprised me but it has many hints for the future…  
> PS What I promised is still on the line double edged for the next chapter..:D  
> Thank you all for your continuous support, your amazing reviews and the continuous favouriting-following truly means the world to me. I swear I'm not going to give up on you and the story.  
> Krysania  
> 

 

**Chapter Thirteen:** **Gifts - Or Something**

_ **Harry’s pov (continuation)** _

The rigorous training among the aurors continued, even more intensely, until five thirty when their shift finally came to a stop. Harry was both pleased by ending for the day and a bit wary. The last part was owned to the fact that he knew Tom, his partner wasn’t going to simply accept constantly losing today and were heading for a rematch the moment they reached home.

 _\- Weirdly how fast he sort of started regarding it as home!_ _-_

Normally such a thing would have been the last probability to bother him but, due to some aurors’ exciting talk, it had downed to him that -thanks to his severe preoccupation- he had totally missed the days and Christmas Eve was frigging tomorrow. Harry had no gift for any of his friends, never mind Tom...

 _Al_ _though the aurors (and their uniforms) had unknowingly given him a lovely idea about his present_...  
 _Now_ _,_ _h_ _ow the hell was he going to avoid total embarrassment?_

He was washing his face and hands, considering an excuse to get away, when Tom approached him, freshly showered. His mouth was lightly pinched and Harry barely held himself to not tease him about his aversion in communal showers, but a closer look showed that it wasn’t the main problem for his partner.

“Ready to head home?”

Harry decided _what the hell_.  
“Not really, I have a little job before.” he played it natural.

Tom’s eyes narrowed but it wasn’t to tease him for avoiding the duel.  
 **“You better not plan visiting Moody.”**

Harry bristled inwardly but unfortunately it wasn’t like he could use it as an excuse.  
 **“Regrettably no, I asked the Undersecretary and he is still at the hospital, there were complications.”** his tone was casual but Tom really knew him, inside out.

“Harry!” his voice was sharp.  **“Don’t you dare start angsting about it...**  
 **it was the best move you could do.”**

 _Was it?_ Harry wasn't so sure but it wasn't something he wanted to think about right now.  
“Why do you ask anyway?” he turned the point.

Tom didn't look bothered even if he was.  
“I'm heading over to Nadia. **Those fools aren't completely useless but nearly so; we’ll need any possible help.”**

Harry was conflicted between laughing and scolding him, he ended doing both.  
 **“You are incorrigible! They are nowhere near that bad and you know it.”**

Tom remained stubborn, Harry sighed.  
 **“At least you must admit they are a vast improvement over those of my time...”**

That made Tom sneer.  
 **“** **I wouldn't even call human the specific bunch.”**

Harry smiled without saying a word, _this was concession enough._ His partner changed the subject.  
 **“Where exactly are you heading then?”**

Harry was getting very uncomfortable.  
 _He didn't like that tone one bit and the last thing he needed was Tom trying to control his movements._  
 **“Since when you need to know that anyway?”** he tried for airy.

He could read the other’s retort in his eyes: _‘Since you are insisting on hiding.’_ but, strangely enough, Tom held back and answered with a just as airy, if slightly sarcastic:  
 **“** **Oh, I don’t know, only since the current official Dark Lord made us his primary targets.”**

That made Harry pause. _There was manipulation there, no doubt about it, but Tom had some right too.  
_ **“Shish, I'm just heading over in Diagon, will you calm down a bit.”**

Tom’s eyes flashed with the insinuation but he held his anger yet again. _Harry was screwed...later...ten times over..._  
 **“You will take the others with you of course.”**

Harry was getting beyond pissedandwanted very much to hit Tom with something.  
 **“** **I don’t need nursemaids.”** _he really should have seen that one coming but he had literally walked right on_... It shouldn't be such a bother but it was going to make his plans unnecessarily difficult...

Tom’s lips twitched.  
 **“I didn't mean it that way, but now that you mentioned it...”**

 **“** **TOM...”** it was a growl.

His partner sent him an icy stare.  
 **“Have you forgotten your word that fast?”**

_Crap... crap... crap..._

**“** **Alright,”** Harry gave up with a bit of ill will yet he wasn't going to totally surrender **.  
“But, you will be exposed to danger too... you should take at least a back up...” ** his complain wasn't only about getting even though.

However Tom wasn't in a mind to compromise.  
 **“** **No need, I'm not the one regularly risking his n...”**  Harry’s turn to an icy glare made him momentarily pause.  **“I will go via floo, for Salazar’s sake, I don’t need a bodyguard or an attaché waiting for me outside.”** then a thought crossed his mind and he smiled.

 **“** **But, perhaps, I’ll need help afterwards... so maybe I’ll call Abraxas in a couple hours... I will have an entire library of rare tomes, way too delicate to shrink, possibly too delicate for other kind of magics too... so maybe the others as well.”** his eyes were sparkling with devilment.

Harry couldn't help a smile himself.

Tom didn't necessarily need to compromise in this, his given word was entirely binding, but he had done it and Harry was happy. The fact that he was going to pay a price later, and probably a heavy one, as it was unmentioned was only part of the game. In addition, the knowledge that Tom continued Brax’s and the others’ punishment in his idea of things and not something horrible added to his lifted spirits.

There was also a small Harry’s part that found the idea of his nosey friends carrying heavy and heavy tomes on foot rather hilarious...  
 _he had a strong feeling that Tom was going to add even more on said weight_...  
 **“** **Alright, we will be there.”**

Tom smiled arrogantly.  
 **“I will call in a couple hours.”**

Harry’s smile was full of teeth too.  
 **“If I'm ready at your call, else I will just sent the others.”**

Tom’s smile dimmed.  
 **“I can wait, but only a little.”**

Harry held back a laugh, _he was probably going to end carrying books too. but it was so worth it._  
“See you later then.” he turned to leave.

“Wait,” Tom stopped him. “You never told me where exactly in Diagon you are heading?” the displeasure was obvious.

Harry sent him a teasing smile.  
“Indeed, I didn’t.” he continued on his way.

_He was going to pay for this but if it was already on the line why not have some fun as well? Tom could track him down, if he really needed to, (or try freezing him somewhere if he could get away with it) but that didn't mean he was going to give it to him on a silver platter.  
_

_Hell, even with the mark on his back he could make things difficult, Marvolo had taught him a trick or two before agreeing dispersing the original._

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Harry and the others left the bank in utter silence. His friends had no clue whatsoever on what was troubling him but they could read his agitation and didn't ask about it, not even Herm, to his total relief. His head was still turning after the surprise he got at Gringotts he really had no idea where the hell had Tom gathered the not so dismissible wealth he found there, but it definitely didn't come from their Hogwarts stipend or his wages as a waiter, never mind Tom’s, from the bookstore.

He truly needed to find out the fortune’s origin but no matter from where it had come from he was flooded with the other’s trust, _(_ _even if he failed to inform him!)_ Tom’s insistence for a shared account for safety’s reasons was taking a very new meaning.

_The utter bastard!_

Still, for all the newfound funds, Harry remained spare with what he took, although it was a bit easier to raise his entire meagre savings from his work after this, to cover the gifts he intended for his friends, Tom’s planned one was already fairly expensive...

But, as they reached the shop, his friends started sending curious looks to one another and finally Herm burst out asking.  
“I thought that you were heading for a gift for Tom?”

Harry was amused.  
“I do.”

Leonard looked a bit nonplussed with this.  
“Wow, you two are really good as married, I'm engaged to Mel, but if I dared to bring her something more personal than a scarf my mother would have been pissed and Mel’s father and brother would have beaten me up.”

Alphard smiled, kind of wistfully.  
“That’s the good thing with Tom and Harry they don’t owe anything to anyone.”

Harry wondered about that slight bitterness and if he was regretting that he was crossing his family but he wasn’t going to publicly ask him.

“Guys?” he raised his voice, just a tiny bit, to get their attention.  
“If you prefer, you can wait for me at Fortescue’s.”

“Good!” Minerva beamed at him, although she was a bit red, and grabbed Hermione’s arm.  
“If you plan to buy undergarments, Mione and I at least, will head there immediately.”  
Hermione just looked uncomfortable and nodded.

Harry blushed. _He definitely hadn’t thought to buy such a thing..._ .  
“No undergarments, but it’s alright.”

“I think that we should all get inside.” Brax smoothly interfered.

Alphard thought it for a moment then agreed.  
“Seconded.”

Zev was the only one looking to have reservations. He appeared both highly embarrassed as the girls but also, at least mildly, irritated with Brax.  
“I don’t think it’s the best of ideas.”

Harry had started getting irritated with the whole matter too.  
“It’s not compulsory, come on guys, I don’t need bodyguards, especially on a shop.”

That changed Zev’s opinion fast.  
“Let’s go.”

That alteration pissed Harry off but he wasn’t going to fight about it...

Inside the shop Harry took his most indifferent visage - _it wouldn’t do to show trepidation now, what he was doing was approaching scandalous anyway._ With his most calm voice he ordered a scarlet, acromantula silk, dress shirt and gave Tom’s measurements. The others sent him weirded looks upon hearing the colour but they had the good grace to not say anything at all.

A thirty-sh Madam Malkin certainly didn’t seem to find his order that peculiar, she wrote everything down, acting far more professional than he remembered, although still flirting a bit. Harry flirted back almost mechanically, trying to not speculate if it was just as mechanical for the lady and how often she had men on her shop ordering things for other men...

He wondered once again if he should have gone into a muggle tailor, to avoid entirely a trail, but he knew his partner all too well. Anything less than acromantula silk and he wouldn’t have touched it with that colour on pain of death **–** _it was a risk as it was._

But Harry wanted to make that point; he had grown tired of Tom berating him for his recklessness when he repeatedly did the same thing...  
There were times that he had been proven more Gryffindor than Gryffindors...

 _Well, if he also wished to see him in one of his favourite colours, no matter his years in Slytherin, that was a completely private matter too_...

Back outside, after Madam Malkin told them to return in an hour, his friends started the interrogation.  
“Wow! You are really going to dock Riddle with Gryffindor red! Talk about balls!” Leonard was almost trembling in his exuberance, barely remembering to not shout, and Minerva slapped his nape promptly. Alphard nodded too, looking at least just as enthusiastic, but didn’t speak.

“Thanks guys, I think.” he deadpanned. _He should have never brought them inside the shop_... Minerva didn’t notice or paid attention to the sarcasm, just checked him for fever.

“Watch it!” he grumbled. Minerva remained undisturbed.

“I don’t see any elevation on your temperature but are you sure that you are alright? Tom has a bit of an allergy to Gryffindor and its colours for as far as I know him...” it wasn’t entirely a joke.

Hermione snickered.  
“Oh, I doubt that it’s such a severe condition.”

Harry barely managed to not blush and just grin back.  
 _Herm leaving innuendos of all people!_

There were some more snickers with this, although Minerva and Leonard remained puzzled, and the others relaxed. He relaxed tooglad that the matter was ending there.

They started moving.

But then Alphard took it from there...  
“Nah, it’s just that our Harry gets off bringing Tom on a tizzy!” he was promptly tipped with a slap upside the head too and with a muttered:

“Boys!”

But Harry didn’t find it that funny, - _there was_ _innuendo and there was this..._  
“Alphard enough.”

The snickers were cut like with a knife. Alphard looked apologetic and he felt bad too. He really didn’t like to have power over his friends... .  
...Then Brax lifted an eyebrow...

“Oh, I don’t know,” he smirked. “That was inelegantly put but dead centred. Every since I know you, your life's long ambition is to drive Tom crazy, intentionally or not.” the others nodded.

Harry wanted to face palm.  
“Cute very cute... You definitely need a life guys.”

On one part he was very grateful that his friends weren’t afraid to tease him, or tell their opinions. On the other... There was a very good reason he avoided even thinking about dating his best friend, for years, their baggage notwithstanding.

... _Told you so was a bitch..!_

Everyone laughed and they finally started heading for the ice cream parlour. But his troubles weren’t over yet. Leonard’s almost conspiratorial whisper at Alphard made him groan.  
“Do you know about Harry’s deal with Gryffindor? Did he got almost sorted or something?” he hurried away playing it like that he didn’t hear.

But, as he passed Zev, he noticed that his friend's levity was slightly forced. Actually, now that he thought about it, Zev was tense every since they got into the shop. He approached slowly, while the others were busy, and nodded him to walk a bit forward.  
“Are you alright?” he whispered.

Zev’s smile was the tiniest bit strained.  
“Why shouldn't I be?”

Harry smiled ruefully. Zevi was mistaken if he believed that was going to back off in this, he could do subtle but he could do and very blunt too.  
“I don’t know, maybe because you are kind of upset ever since we set for the shop. There is your usual fretting and there is brooding, so what’s wrong?”

Zev’s expression lightened some, it wasn't an act.  
“I wasn't brooding. I was just planning the reply home for this, just in case.”

Harry was momentarily puzzled.  
“Why would you need a reply for this?” then it hit him.  
“Salazar! Hermione was my alibi. Will you guys get in deep trouble for this?”

Zev considered it.  
“No, not really, I was with her so there is no scandal even if Madam Malkin talks about it.” he smiled wryly.  
“But there is a possibility that mother will start pestering me to consider and other options.”

Harry felt like a heel.  
“I'm really sorry.” it wasn't only about the current transgression.

Zevi smiled.  
“Don’t worry about it, it’s my choice I can handle it.”

Harry wasn't reassured, it was still his fault and Mione may pay for the whole mess in time.

But Zev was way observant to miss where his thoughts were heading.  
“Harry, I'm not going to desert her for this, I knew where things were heading from the start, I know you both.” another smile.  
“If she can support you she will and I feel the same.”

Harry could only thank him profusely from the heart, to the other’s utter mortification. He was relieved beyond measure and didn't need anything more. Zev’s word was better than gold...

...The only remaining problem now was to find gifts for the guys too...

But as his eyes fell on Manthos Aggelakis, a specific ex-working associate of his, getting into the apothecary, he had a brilliant idea, one that could mean life or death for his friends in the current circumstances.

... _if the other wanted to cooperate of course_...

But Harry had stopped rushing into things without much of a plan these days, - _or at least he tried to-_ even if they could be considered flimsy by some. So he forced himself to stay where he was and recall everything he knew about the man in an effort to calculate at how best to approach him.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

{He had first met Manthos the previous summer, when he started working as waiter for Mrs Heistings at the Leaky Cauldron, where the other was already working there as a cook for some months. It was in the shared workspace that he had come to know him and learn his story **–** _more or less so_ **–** there were and parts that he had guessed or had been added on by Mrs Heistings. _(_ _He had cross checked too_ _)_

Mr Aggelakis had been a fighter of the Greek resistance but had ended a refuge in England, saved by British soldiers, when the Germans became too insisting for his head. The first months he had fitted right in and even started working as a very successful Auror. (his original profession) But everything changed when he got information that his elderly mother, wife, teen son, little daughters, and most of their village had been executed by the Germans as retaliation. (one of their last war cruelties)

That was it: the man snapped. Although he didn't went completely barking mad to be locked at St Mungo, or openly psychotic to be thrown in Azkaban, Manthos Aggelakis went from a pleasant, well travelled, man with a biting sense of humour to a cantankerous, irritable, alcoholic, with a tongue of acid, that held no respect for almost all living souls and absolutely no hope. His life held only a solitary purpose: to see Grindelwald dead. 

Naturally the Auror command couldn’t keep him after this. Ragging alcoholism was one thing - _even if it was excused to people with connections-_ but his total disregard to authority and solo missions, not to mention open use of dark arts, _(_ _although Harry could bet that it was more due to desperation than actual inclination_ _)_ was enough to sent him on his way.

The Ministry was of course savvy enough to not press charges, with people freshly grateful to him for their lives, but they definitely hoped that he could die from an attack, or simply chose to return in his ravaged country. They certainly didn't count on Mrs Heistings **–** _one of those saved_ _ **–**_ to take him under her wing.

Those facts were shared to Harry from the kind-hearted lady herself to help him understand his co-worker. Harry sort of understood and pitied him, for all his dislike  **–** _and_ _maybe something even darker_ **–** but he was nowhere near masochistic enough to be more than strictly polite at someone that his bitterness could rival and even shame Snape’s.

In the months that worked on the Cauldron he got from grudgingly respecting the Greek **–** at first **–** after he noticed how very protective he was for the handful of people he still cared about **–** _namely Mrs Heistings and her son_ _ **–**_ to almost really liking him, after he accepted and even laughed at to a paid answer.

But it was only after Mr Aggelakis beat him **–** responding to an attack in Diagon Alley, armed by a frigging kitchen knife except just his wand,  _-_ _Tom had been a very close seething third-_  that made him start seeing Manthos even remotely as a true friend.  
 _(_ _He could bet that it was also the same date his partner moved from simple contempt to actual hate towards the wizard_ _)_

However it was also that specific event that made Harry face and understand his acute first dislike and subconscious terror he felt for the Greek. If he had been initially scared after he realized that he understood where Tom was getting from, he was beyond terrified now to recognise a stark portrait at how exactly he would have ended if he had lost Tom, Herm, and the rest of his remaining friends among the others _._

It was a very sobering experience **–** the expression dark mirror wasn't even covering it **–** and he hated himself for this and his dark relief that came with it. _(_ _Too bad the feeling had faded during the school year, it could have stopped him from doing some very stupid things_ _)_

But it was exactly that self hate that urged him to start taking care of Manthos night after night (who was repeatedly trying to drown his sorrows to the point of being unable to stand on his own two feet) as some kind of repentance or maybe it was his sick curiosity that led him to really talk with the man, or just his usual luck and patience...

...and probably the fact he shared a first name with the man’s dead son...  _–_ _a detail he learned rather accidentally at such a night–_ or even that he allowed Mr Aggelakis to deluge himself, from time to time, that it was said son the one that took care of him, that eventually got him access to some of the other’s amazing magical secrets, if not the key to unlock them...}

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

...Yet that was what had gotten him to today, Mr Aggelakis wasn't going to share his family heritage and secrets just because and Harry wasn't a total scum to just steal them. The only chance he could see at getting the secret, no matter how much he worked his mind on it, was to tell the other clearly what he wanted, but most importantly the why...

Harry still didn't see much chance at success, even with total honesty, but he couldn't allow himself to never try. Luckily his thinking progress hadn't taken too far long, the other was just leaving the shop; _it was time to act.  
_ “Wait for me here.” he told Zevi, it was almost an order.

“Harry...” Zev sounded unhappy and tried to hold him. But Harry had no time for nursemaids, or even a close watch.

“Keep the others away too, when they’ll caught on.” this time it was an actual order, spoken while he reserved most of his attention to his target and he took after him, barely a step before sprinting.

He almost lost him into the evening crowd but mercifully the long unkempt salt and pepper hair were hard to miss.  
“Mr Aggelakis?” no reaction, he kind of expected that.

The cook kept on walking, looking like he held the weight of the world to his shoulders, like usual, hardly paying attention to anything at all and yet the people hurried to get out of his way, he barely noticed even that.  
“Mr Manthos?” he tried again.

This time he had more response. The Greek wizard turned to glare at him but the expression softened somewhat as he recognised him.  
He sent him a cursory glance, examining his wellbeing.

“Evening Harry, palikari mou, I'm glad to see that the paper was wrong and you didn't sustained very grievous injuries.” a small but honest grin. “Any chance that it was wrong regarding the tyrant as well?” he asked the last part with a deadly eagerness.

Harry couldn't help a small grin; this was a positively fond greeting from the misanthrope. Even better he was still sober.  
“Good evening, Mr Manthos, unfortunately no, but you will be glad to hear that Grindelwald wasn't left unscathed either.”

The Greek practically hummed with this.

“Excellent! I should have known... neither you, nor that arrogant friend of yours, are for half arsed business. Don’t worry, palikari mou, someday the bastard will get his due. Now, do you need something specific or just bothering me? As much as I want to hear the details I must return to the Cauldron.” his accent deepened at his enthusiasm but it was nowhere near heavy like Victor’s.

Harry’s grin deepened with the other’s pleasure.

 _He should have known_ _that_ _Aggelakis’ hate for Germans in general and Grindelwald in particular would have been the reason for him to be so social with him..._ _Also_ _for the Greek to go that far as to be praising Tom he must have been beyond impressed with them, except ecstatic, with the whole affair..._

 _...Still, for him to not ask any details something wasn't exactly right too...  
_ “I'm counting on this sir, and yes actually I do.” there was definitely no reason for subterfuge with him.

Black beady eyes peered down at him, examining his sincerity. After a moment the wizard nodded his approval of the directness.  
“And I suppose that I'm the only one that could help you with whatever is it?” he questioned grouchily.

Harry crossed discreetly his fingers.  
“That’s right.” that was definitely true.

The other man muttered something that Harry had a feeling wasn't flattering at all but seemed to take his decision.  
“Speak up then, palikari mou. I owe you one for the bastard!” his eyes glittered maliciously but then he looked suddenly down.  
“I owe you a bloody lot for the previous summer too.” he concluded somewhat embarrassed.

It was Harry’s turn to be uncomfortable and a bit guilty... This was the first time the other openly acknowledged his help like that _(_ _sober at least_ _)_ and the use of the term ‘palikari’ didn't really helped matters. He had got to knew it meant ‘brave, honourable, lad’.

 _Definitely didn't help matters!  
_ “It is a very important matter for me to be discussed on the street. Can I buy you a coffee, or something?” - _Never the less, no matter how heavy the knowledge of what he had come to ask was into his mind, if it came down to this, he was going to use any and all things available if he had to_...

The Greek cackled unpleasantly, his good mood evaporating.

“Are you out of your mind boy? We don’t share a work anymore for you to be obliged associating with me. I could ruin your reputation, I'm considered the lunatic of Diagon, a drunk, and without Mrs Heistings’ mercy nothing more than a tramp, a bum of the street.” he admitted self-consciously but without any pity. “I thought you wanted to get somewhere in life...That high-strung, haughty, stavraderfos of yours is going to have a conniption.” the last part though was full of malicious humour.

Harry rolled his eyes with the other’s dramatics and the weird Greek term he constantly used for him and Tom. _Although he liked that one: ‘brother by choice’_ _he_ _wasn't completely sure it was appropriate anymore..._

 _But if Mr Manthos thought that some insults directed towards Tom were going to make him back off then he could go smoke_...not that his partner ever bothered to hide his own disdain for the cook... _and kept on insisting that he encouraged his most reckless traits_...yet refrained from throwing curses, as it was supposedly beneath him...

Still, for all he knew, Tom could have tried cursing him repeatedly with the other always deflecting... _but then again that was the true reason he was bothering the old man now_...

“I don’t doubt the lunatic part, but when did that stopped me?” he put it dryly.  
“Or when did I let Tom’s opinion sway me on anything? So, shall we go sir?”

_Not that Harry disagreed with the accuracy on some of the terms no matter their source, but he doubted that the brunt of public disapproval was simply due to Mr Aggelakis being drunk most of the time - many in Diagon shared that trait._

He had a feeling that the general apprehension and sometimes downright fear that some members of Diagon’s populace usually shared for the Greek wasn't because he was foreigner, or even supposedly dark... _his attitude could be terrifying most of all_...

Another look under heavy, feathery, brows.  
“You keep on sir-ing me brat; you really need something big... so come on we’d better head for the Cauldron...” Harry had nothing to complain with this.

On the way to their destination people kept making them way to pass and Aggelakis sent him a faint bitter smirk like he was proved right, and maybe he was, but Harry doubted it was that simple...

His openly acerbic manner, towards literally everyone no matter their position _(a trait he suspected Tom was deeply jealous about)_ held people at bay and his rapidly deteriorating appearance – a too gaunt face almost lost into his coarse looking greying hair and unkempt beard, added by an intimidating towering height and stagger when drunk – _and_ _objectively looking like a cross between Snape and an adult Hagrid_ frankly didn't help matters. But there was also and a lot of respect that was expressed just as much with such actions, Harry could see it clearly too...

 _(_ _He would have panicked and/or still be freaked out about it if it was a matter wholly about fear when he finally noticed it was happening to him too, except Tom alone, at Hogwarts' grounds..._   _)_

On the pub they headed directly to the kitchen and Aggelakis set to make his strongest Greek coffee for the both of them. Harry accepted it, knowing that he was going to need it later on, and put up privacy wards.

... _not a moment too soon that one_...

His friends had obviously discarded going at Fortescue’s and instead decided to came here as well but supposedly respected his wishes by sitting at the far corner and a distant table.

_Following his directions his arse!_

Still it was time for him to open his cards.  
“I really need you to teach me that incantation.” he put it without preamble.

Mr Aggelakis made a mess of his coffee but when he regained his breath he tried to play it casual.  
“And what kind of incantation will that be?”

Guilt assaulted Harry once more, stronger than before, for he know what sacrilege he was going to ask - _even more so since this morning-_ and what kind of tragic memories he was going to invoke. Still, he didn't back off, not even hesitated, kept looking the wizard to his eyes.  
 _...This could be the key for his friends’ safety..._

“We both know what this is about...” he put it steely. “I need the curse deflecting incantation. The one you used on the eye amulet that you created for Mrs Heistings, the same magic you kept telling me about, and even teaching me...night after night...”

... _The same nights he had ended sharing the other’s mourning for his loved ones (wanting it or not) long hours after the Cauldron’s closing_...  
... _Really Tom wasn’t totally insane in his detestation for the wizard_...

Manthos looked at him at a loss, like he was seeing him for the first time. Harry had never acted  _(_ _or even thought_ _)_ like he was doing something special, not even mentioned it, and now he was seeking payment. The very act must have looked like a betrayal, and totally unlike him.  
“Palikari mou?”

But Harry wasn’t allowing himself to feel guilty now. He understood what he was doing but it wasn’t enough to sway him, more like the total opposite. He had come to respect and sympathise with Manthos but it came very second to what he felt for Tom, Herm, and the rest of their friends.

There was nothing he would stop at to protect them.  
“Come on Mr Manthos,” he pleaded. “You know I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't necessarily for the safety of my friends, I wouldn’t have done that to you.”

Manthos let out a long string of Greek, presumably expletives. But was also the first to drop his eyes. He summoned his cigarettes, lit up and started pacing. Long moments later he spoke...  
“I don’t suppose you only need it for that conceited stavraderfos of yours and your bookish girl?” it was almost an acquiesce but it sounded like desperation.

He couldn't even laugh with the other’s prickly insults for Tom, or his sly hints that he should have gone after Hermione.  
“No sir,” he admitted, looking furtively at his friends from the glass door to the main shop, the other understood. The only thing keeping Harry’s conscience from rebelling was the fact that what he shared with Aggelakis was a debt of honour, not a life one, he couldn’t force him.

“You lot are going after Grindelwald.” it wasn't a question.

Harry nodded again, it was supposed to be kept secret for safety’s sake but he just couldn't see Aggelakis compromised, he hated Grindelwald too much and no matter his circumstances he didn't lack the willpower to fight the Imperious, he owned him at least this much.

_The fact that it was the certain thing to tip the other to his favour was just a bonus._

But to his total surprise Manthos was still not swayed. He looked torn and smoked some more but he still didn't give in.  
“I want to help you Harry, I really do, but I can’t. I thought that I was completely alone after the loss of my family but it’s not the case. I just discovered a distant cousin. My debt, my duty as you Englishmen puts it, is with her.”

Harry didn't know what to think with this.

“I don’t understand,” he finally bursted out. “It’s just this one incantation for Salazar’s sake, I didn't ask for your complete family heritage or...” he stopped sort, understanding he sounded a total brat, and feeling ashamed.  
“I'm really sorry, but I'm really glad that you aren't totally alone anymore.” he kind of babbled.

Mr Aggelakis didn't look happy but didn't look ready to throw him out by his ear either.  
“If you had paid the attention you implied to my drunken babblings you would have known that it’s not a simple incantation but a full ritual, still apology accepted.”

Harry smiled in relief, for all that he couldn't help but wonder at his fondness for people insisting to lecture him, but this was beyond justified.  
“I'm truly sorry you know.” he confessed, the other nodded.  
“So, how is she?” he couldn't help but ask.

Aggelakis smiled and for the first time since Harry met him he looked happy. “Sybil is nothing more than a silly, superfluous, young girl with a skewered idea for our family and barely knows any Greek but she is family. I will protect her with my life.”

Harry was glad for his older friend but the name alone set ice upon his spine, he had a very bad feeling about this.  
“Sybil?” he asked as delicately he could.

The Greek wizard merely smiled nodding towards the glass doors and just like that Harry’s fears were realised.

He hadn't paid any but a cursory attention to the current waitress outside, the long braid and an apron had at first thrown him off, but there she was: _(_ _rail thin with a too narrow face, barely holding her too big hyperopic glasses, reminding him as ever of a large insect_ _)_ The very person he avoided like the plague ever since he returned to the past.

For a moment he was sure that he was hallucinating and heard the other’s voice as in a dream.  
“I worry about her though, she insists she want to follow the family tradition while she has almost nothing of my mother’s gift. Thankfully Mrs Heistings offered her your old work for her vacations and after her finish with school. Even if anything happens to me she won’t end up hungry.”

The mentioning of his mother from Manthos, unheard so far, plush the real concern to the other’s tone brought Harry chillingly to the present.  
 _No, this was no dream or apparition!  
_ “Sybil Trelawney!” he finally managed to utter.

“I see that you know her.” something in Manthos’ tone creeped the hell out of Harry.

Something like instinct had him retreating, fast.  
“Barely, I've met her at school, in passing.”

The other’s expression didn't get any less creepy though.  
“Still, it must have been a very strong impression.” at Harry’s blank look Aggelakis continued.

“I will be frank with you, Harry; Sybil is too much of a dreamer, living in her own little world, should I go missing I doubt that she will have the fortitude to take the reins of her own life, even with a steady job. She will need a protector and I will be more than happy to initiate you in the family secrets and even accept you as my heir, magical and worldly, should you choose to take that role.”

The surrealistic horror of the moment overcame Harry, like a heavy black bag thrown to his head, and he couldn't believe at his ears.  
 _This was the most insane thing he had heard in his entire life!_

It took him everything he had to not run away screaming and instead answer calmly and even politely.  
“I'm sorry, sir, but I don’t think it's such a good idea, I appreciate the offer though.” he got up to leave.

There was a part of him that was beyond grateful for his entanglement with Tom, just for this, emotional ties aside. The spell was important enough that he should have to seriously consider it.

The other wizard studied him intensely.  
“Are you sure that you won’t reconsider Harry?” his voice was devoid of all emotion.

Harry nodded firmly. _Absolutely wasn’t even coming close to how certain he felt for this._  
“I wish her the best but I’m sure.” he couldn’t even consider the possibility without a shudder of revulsion.

_It was probably weak of him and maybe shallow but he could never think of Trelawney without flashing in grisly, almost weekly, predicaments of his death and much, much, worse her true prophecies. It was definitely unfair of him and even hypocritical, (especially considering what kind of issues he had gotten past with Tom) but, even with their past aside, he couldn’t even stand her close presence, as he was terrified that she was going to spit another prophecy and destroy his life from its roots once again._

Another intense study while Harry feverishly hoped that his face was as blank to the Greek as it could be to everyone except Tom and maybe Herm. The other smiled - _it looked like he was in luck.  
_ “Came up to my room!” - _or maybe not_...

“Excuse me?” his weird o matter was shot up to the roof but thankfully it wasn’t a _‘Is he hitting on me?’_ kind of weird...

The other smirked almost teasingly.  
“You passed. It’s a common failing for you Slytherins to never know where to stop to reach your ambitions, but at least you do that much. I think we can come to an accord for the ritual.”

Harry let out a relieved sigh.

 _It looked like things were going to get right after all._ He was both grateful and a bit humiliated by having fallen for his own kind of tricks...  
Still, he couldn't help but feel guilty once again though...

“Thank you, really thank you! But everything you said about Sybil were true, no?” he couldn't help the question that wasn't really a question.  
The Greek’s expression turned to something kind and maybe a bit surprised for his concern.

“Indeed, every last word. And if it was possible for you to care for her in that way, even a bit, I would have pressured. As things are it would have made both of you miserable even if you accepted it... Grindelwald needs to die too, and I have a feeling that you and Riddle are going to play a key role in this at the very least...” he was dead serious.

Harry was getting more alarmed with almost every interpolation of said statement he could make, but his guilt persisted.  
“What about your homeland? Won’t you two be safer there? The war with the Germans is over.” he asked as they started for the two staircases.

He got a fierce glare for his bother.  
“There is a civil war brewing in Greece, idiot child! Brother kills brother for stupid politics, I'm not going to bring her in that mess! Not that’s much safer around here, but she was raised British, she can handle it better. Why do you think I haven’t left yet...?”

Harry felt like a right shit –he could have done without throwing salt to the other’s wounds– he also took notice to keep a closer eye to international politics, not only wizarding ones...  
“I thought that you were here for Grindelwald?” _rage was better than depression._

He got only partial successes. Aggelakis’ eyes flashed like lit charcoal, but it died out too fast.

“I won’t rest until I see him dead. The executions to my village may have been a retaliation for my bombings but Grindelwald’s involvement in this was because he wanted my family, or specifically my mother, to his mercy.” a savage breath and he forced a lighter tone.  
“I'm definitely not staying around for the miserable weather and the snobbish people...”

Harry couldn't help but snort with that. He knew exactly what the other was attempting and wanted to help.  
“Hey, we are not that bad, you have talked about your people’s imperfections too: nosey to a fault and argumentative as far as it gets.” even as he teased back he tried to remember what he had heard about Trelawney’s great aunt, he know there was a connection here...

The Greek smiled.  
“You would have fitted right in.”

He knew it was a compliment.  
“Thanks, I think.” he couldn't help a small quip.

Not that the other let it unpunished.  
“You don’t have to worry about Sybil anyway;” he deadpanned.  
“It wasn't you she's sweet about, more like your partner...”

Harry almost lost his footing to the stairs...  
“Too much information!” he tried to joke but he really doubted that his glare was fully controlled.

The other’s gaze was almost inscrutable but he was almost certain that he read a certain sadistic amusement at the curving of his lips. He relaxed.  
... _Well that expression definitely reminded him of Trelawney and her own hidden sadistic glee during his death’s predictions;_ he wondered why he had doubted of their relation...

Even if it was nothing but the truth, _which he didn't have any reservations to believe but would definitely rather didn't know about,_   _it wasn't like Manthos would have allowed any girl from his family to date Tom, not willingly, and definitely not calmly_...

_(Not that he knew, or even suspected, that Tom was a rising Dark Lord. If that was the case Harry was almost certain that he would have reacted to the knowledge with an attempted Avada, he was that inflexible to that subject. It was probably the reason he wasn’t considering him a close friend, not the age difference...)_

Also he hadn't missed that the other had used the term partner, _which was rather telling and disturbing...but not completely alarming... if he was to create him problems about it he would had done it so already_...  
 _...or so he hoped_...

But as they reached Mr Aggelakis their destination he let those thoughts and anything not related to the task go. He always felt uncomfortable into that place and it went doubly so now that wasn't distracted by carrying him inside. Tragedy may not had directly touched the specific place but the stark room, adorned only with a wooden picture of Virgin Mary, sepia photos of Aggelakis’ loved and lost ones, and permanently lighten by a lone vigil light, was clearly a place of mourning.

_This was Mr Manthos’ Godric Hollow._

Aggelakis had the courtesy to not mention his discomfort or maybe he didn’t even notice it, as he was busy arranging white candles and transfiguring his bed into a small tall table, but Harry’s budding eager curiosity became shock and trepidation when he realised what exactly he had arranged on top of said table.

“No, this is too much.” he found the voice to object.

|This was an almost round, blue pebble, about the size of a man’s palm, made of glass, and smoothed out by centuries of contact with the sea. Harry could sense the gentle alluring magical waves that constantly emanated from it and so he could never dream discounting it as a simple object.|

But he also recalled Aggelakis’ stories regarding it and how it had passed from generation to generation to his family. He wasn’t just going to take away something so precious... _especially considering how much the other fought it_...

Aggelakis didn’t seem much impressed with his reaction.  
“And how are you supposing we’ll do this, palikari mou?”

Harry hated to be spoken down so his reaction was almost predictable.  
“Hell if I know, but there must be a way that I won’t take your last family heirloom. There must be something else to cast at!” he exclaimed.

Strangely enough Mr Manthos took his outburst relatively well.  
“Appreciated, but it can’t be helped. You recall what I have told you about the peculiarities of magic and geography in Greece?”

Harry’s brows furrowed but he made himself to remember.

“Yes, your ley lines are especially concentrated at the sea, although they still exist in the land and the so called ‘Holly places’, like the rest of the world.” Aggelakis nodded that he had gotten it right but Harry wasn't ready to admit defeat yet.  
“But surely not all Greek spells and rituals need augmentation by the sea?”

The other sighed and tried to explain.

“No, they don’t, but unfortunately this one does, that and the magical build over the centuries. The ritual you ask of me needs both the utmost sensitivity and concentration and demands the most magical strength, the true giving of one’s self to have even the minimal result. Even if you had brought me Cycladic obsidian as a focus and matrix it wouldn't have been enough to cover your specifications.”

Harry had to look down at this. It sounded more complicated by the second and he wouldn’t have dared to ask such a thing from Leonard _-or  even_ _Tom-_ if he had known...

“The more I hear the less I understand why you’ll even consider it?” it was only a half question.  
The Greek looked amused.

“It’s quite simple really. One, I’m not quite certain that Sybil, dearest girl that she is, has the magical strength to pass our heritage to her future children, nor I believe that I will live that long. Secondly I have some demands/wishes that I’m almost certain that you can fulfil.” his smile was all teeth.

Harry relaxed, he understood better now. He also knew that the demands were going to be a bitch from such an unexpected front and build but it was the kind of thing he could deal with.  
“I can hear them.” he offered noncommittally.

The other’s smile brightened even more, looking both relieved and kind of predatory. Harry braced himself; but it was no use...  
“You already know that my dearest Sybil will need protection.”

It was only the start but Harry found himself unconsciously stepping back.  
“But..?” he managed to utter.

Aggelakis laughed to his face.  
“Oh palikari mou, the look to your face, It really went green!”

Harry’s embarrassment worsened even more but the other wasn't finished yet.  
“I believe that we’ll already established that you have neither suitability nor the inclination to become her husband.” his tone was half mocking half snarky.

Harry was still embarrassed but he would rather suffer the other’s ribbing if he believed that it was wholly a matter of sexual preference than an insult to his family. He nodded.

The other hmmped his displeasure.  
“Cut that quiet crap, its not you, I trust you more when you are up front with me. Now do you want to hear my exact requirements or not?”

Harry couldn't help but laugh with this. At that moment he truly regretted not trying more to cut the hostilities between Aggelakis and Tom, if not actually making them to get along. He had a feeling that he had lost both a good stream of amusement and a damn useful and strong ally, _well_ _mostly_ _the second_ _._

 _Still if he managed to get this it was going to be more than enough_...  
“I do.” still it was plain he meant this.

“Excellent!” Mr Manthos grinned warmly at him and curved both arms outward and to the side, palms down. Harry could feel his power surging and held his breath. While definitely not at Lord level he was far stronger that he expected.

“For starts I want your solemn oath that one of the created amulets is going to belong at Sybil, no matter what, and maybe two more to the Heistings, if you’ll have enough for you friends. That you will definitely pass Everything that I will teach you tonight at Tom Heistings, when he reaches his majority, and the same at Sybil’s children. Will you do it?” it was a weird mix between Unbreakable Oath and Wizarding Vow, definitely Other.

Harry couldn’t find any hidden meanings to the Greek’s words, in fact it sounded like something he should have insisted by himself, his conscience would have tolerated no less... He mirrored the other’s stance.  
“I’ll do it.” his voice was strong and his power rose to meet the other’s.

Aggelakis accepted this with a nod and his intonation changed, becoming less rigid but no less gravely.

“If anything happens to me will you look after my Sybil? Protect her life, if needs be, but also act as if you were her brother. Making sure she is alright and has someone to reach for shelter if needs be, maybe even finding her a good boy to settle, or ensuring that the one she chooses is not out to use her. Will you do it?”

Harry had to blink at this, it sounded beyond farfetched. Still, if Aggelakis died under any circumstances, he would have done some of them anyway - if he knew about Sybil.  
 _It wasn't totally unbearable._

“I will do it.” still no hesitation.

Aggelakis took a step forward.  
“Will you do everything in your power, even your life if needs be, to stop and/or destroy the Dark Lord Grindelwald?” closing it with the formal:  
“Will you do it?”

Harry nodded once again, he knew that Tom was going to take his ears off with his tirade about the life part of the oath but he considered it fair.  
“I will do it.” he wondered how many more oaths he was going to take, three was the traditional number, but Mr Manthos didn't look in a hurry to stop his demands.

Yet, at the same moment, Manthos’ power surged out once more, they were almost to the end.  
“Do you swear by everything you are to never become a Dark Lord yourself?” Aggelakis’ voice was total steel.

Harry had a feeling that this was the crucial matter of the whole affair, everything else was more or less a given. Still he was confident with his answer; he had no intention whatsoever to follow a path comparable to Voldemort’s or Grindelwald’s and even if he took it technically his magic was grey not dark.

“I swear with everything that I am.” he reached for the other’s hands to seal the oath.

But Manthos didn't allow their hands to touch, he had one last demand.  
“Do you swear, Harry, to never allow the rising of another Lord like Grindelwald? To stop him or her with every means at your disposal for as long as you are a part of this world?”

Harry faltered.

He had no idea if he could even realistically consider taking such an oath. Even if Tom chose the most peaceful political solutions he was still a Dark Lord, his core wasn't going to change. More so, he was honest enough with himself to know that his lover should go pretty damn far before he, himself, even considered taking him out by deadly means, they were too intertwined to be anything but this way...

Aggelakis saw his dilemma and decided to help him out.

“I'm not asking you to go face every wizard or witch born with such a gift. Its one thing to be enhanced in magical ability by nature and/or to drew other wizards to follow your leadership, yet quite another to use said abilities terrorizing and oppress your people, or whole nations, to do as you command.”

Harry just looked at him in total disbelief. On one part it was a relief, he could definitely vow that... _He was never going to allow Tom to go near that far_... On the other it was too well tailored to them to be a coincidence. There were only three possibilities regarding it and the third was just silly.

One: _Aggelakis had been approached by Dumbledore to evaluate and spy on them._ It wasn’t completely ridiculous. _The professor was already beyond wary of Tom, but even in the original timeline he hadn’t openly attacked him until he resurfaced as Voldemort, he doubted that he was going to rapidly change said behaviour._

_The two wizards had that Grindelwald bone in common so it wasn’t impossible to use said common ground and make a deal. Aggelakis was maybe fiercely independent but Dumbledore never had a problem offering the illusion of it, or with what language you used against him, so long as he took what he wanted._

That was the basest scenario.

Two: _Aggelakis had observed them the previous summer and had gotten a pretty good idea on what’s was what._ That was the most alarming scenario. _Mr Manthos was intelligent, no doubt on this, but they had been careful. There was no hint of plans for world domination in Tom’s public behaviour, never mind in his... so how on earth could they got betrayed?_

 _Even worse, how did they miss it?_ Even Dumbledore had got interested and suspicious at that first meeting because Tom got so excited and happy that had blurted out he was a parselmouth...

Third: there was and the extreme hypothesis, of course...

_Aggelakis came from a Seer’s family, Salazar only knew how much he could sense... It was well beyond insane but Trelawney, while bat-shit crazy, had spoken two fulfilled prophesies so it was impossible for him to disregard this completely..._

The only good thing he could find in this mess, regardless which possibility, was that Manthos had a pretty good wind on what Tom was and still hadn’t tried to harm him by principle alone, Harry had underestimated him.

However all probabilities led to the same thing. No matter which assumption was closer to the truth - _or how uneasy he was-_ Harry felt that he had to comply. The reasons went far further than the ritual, precious though it was.

Not only was it going to get Dumbledore out their backs – _if he really was behind this –_ but far more importantly it was going to work as a safety valve for him or a pressure point to Tom, keeping him on a relatively straight path...  
... _After he calmed down from his incoming nuclear explosion that’s it_...

Harry had to sigh in resignation with the specific thought...

But really, all those valid reasons aside, he doubted that he would have agreed if Manthos had tried to completely tie his hands in this oath too. Maybe the thought of Tom descending to madness and going into killing sprees was his worst nightmare, - _second only by happening to himself-_ but he couldn’t stand to set them with another Damocles’ sword above their heads. Enough was enough.

... _Not that this wasn't cutting it awfully close anyway_...

“I will never allow in any magical Lord to reign in violence and terror not for as long as I’m a part of this world. That I, Harry James Evans Potter, hereby swear.” Harry forced out the agreement and grabbed the other’s hands before he could change his mind.

The magical backslash left them both staggering with its power, Harry had to wonder at the consequences about breaking said oaths... he had a feeling that the losing of magic, or even life, was going to be almost pleasant in comparison...

Aggelakis had a strange look to his face, shock mixed with respect, like he didn’t expected that he would swear in the end, and his words when he spoke made things even worse.

“Harry, palikari mou, I can’t believe you would chose such a burden for yourself, just to protect your friends, but we can’t go further before you understand something. The ritual it’s not as all encompassing as you think, it won’t deflect the more powerful curses, never mind Unforgivables:” he had started steadily enough but his face betrayed all his anguish with the subject.

“My mother created fragments for my children when she passed it to me. She said that she had seen my death otherwise, but how could she miss theirs, how? It wasn’t enough to protect them. My Harry, Danae, even little Rinio are dead, summarily executed like the rest. I would rather died on their place...” his voice broke.

Harry wished that he was anywhere but here. It wasn’t like anything he could say would help matters in any way, there was no cure, or even solace, from such a pain. His severe irritation that Manthos choose to mention this after the oath was dispatched to the wind. He stayed silent and supporting until the other gained his composure.

“I understand this but I still believe it’s worth it.” he really did, but also counted in his magical strength to boost what was already there, that was his starting plan to the very least.  
 _Also he was very glad that he managed to not ask why not the wife_...

“If you are certain palikari mou.” Aggelakis consented.  
His voice sounded lacklustre and very older than his middle aged years and Harry ached to help and decided to risk it.   
The other was mentally present now and hopefully it was going to do some good.

“It wasn't your fault, you couldn't have known and definitely not your mother’s. The entire fault belongs to Grindelwald and his Germans.” he almost shouted.

Something flashed in the Greek’s eyes with this, now was it hate, or maybe hope, Harry wasn't certain.  
“You have no idea what I did or who my mother was.” it sounded like rage.

Harry told himself to not take offence. _This wasn't about him_.  
“It doesn't matter whoever she was, she was a Grandmother. Her grandchildren came before everything, even her children.” somehow he was utterly convinced about this.

The wild look in Aggelakis’ eyes was definitely hate.  
“My mother was the most venerated Seer of this time, they called her the modern Oracle. How could she not?”

_Bingo!  
_

Harry allowed his immature brain only a bare moment to recognize that he was right; _but_ _he had far more important things to do_...  
“There is no way she would have known, prediction doesn't work like that, I know, I took divination.” ... _like to ease a friend_.   
Honestly, he wasn't completely sure about this, he had only Trelawney as example, but it so didn't mattered, the end result did...

Manthos gulped involuntary and looked down.  
“Then it’s my fault.” he sounded broken.

That pissed Harry right off.  
“We already talked about this, multiple times. It’s the Germans’ fault; those were the barbarians killing children, no matter what you did to them.” of that he was again completely certain.

 _Hell,_ his feelings aside, _Tom, a psychopath and the less sensitive person he knew in his life, had agreed that killing children was the lowest point one could reach._ He wasn't going to back off on this.

The other tried to dismiss him.  
“You know nothing of this, boy.” he spat, not even using his adjective for Harry.

Harry told himself to not be hurt, the other was currently in much worse emotional pain than his own...  
...It wasn't easy...  
“On the contrary I know more than enough.”

...But his voice betrayed his emotions, Mr Manthos may not knew his real story but he certainly knew of his losses.  
“The Germans already paid and I will deal with Grindelwald.” he promised once again.  
“Now, I've made my part will you do yours?”

That seemed to work.

Aggelakis looked ashamed with this, then he met his eyes and nodded, acknowledging Harry’s right and burdens.  
“Let’s start, palikari mou.” he straightened his body.

A couple flicks of his wand had some more candles at the four corners and lit all of them, another one and the window was opened.  
“Good! The sun is not completely out but the moon’s already risen high, its time. Ready?”

Harry steadied himself.  
“Yes.”

A flash of teeth.  
“Excellent! Come here.

Harry obeyed without comment, approaching the table with the Pebble, but then Aggelakis dropped his bomb.  
“Kneel.”

He couldn’t help a heated glare.  
“What on earth?”

Aggelakis had the nerve to laugh.  
“I’m not asking you to swore your allegiance, kid, please trust me.”

Harry swore up a blue streak, only half of it inside, but decided to abide by it.  
 _He had agreed on way too many things to back off now_...

...but just to make things worse Tom chose the exact moment to mentally seek him out...  
 _‘Ready to come and get me, darling?’  
..._ his mental voice sounded like teasing but Harry could easily recognise both success and boredom.

‘ _Can’t it wait for half an hour or something?’_ he tried for casual and to keep Tom unaware of his surroundings.  
The distinct lack of bitching convinced him that he had managed.

‘ _Carry on, but you better hurry.’_ was the imperious answer and the words - _you owe me-_ weren't even needed to be said.

Harry muttered an annoyed expletive. Aggelakis smirked.  
“Back around, palikari mou?”

Harry glared, but he wasn't going to explain himself, the other could deal.

Thankfully the Greek did exactly that and just repeated the gesture for him to kneel. This time Harry obeyed, getting an excellent view.  
The table’s surface was just few inches under his eyes and the Pebble glimmered otherworldly but peacefully in the dusk.

“That’s it Harry,” came Aggelakis voice, gentle for once.  
“Concentrate on the Stone.”

Harry did just that and for a second there were no worries or conflict in his soul, he was in peace. But the tranquil moment didn't last for long. A scarlet drop of blood fell on the stone and was absorbed, activating it. The whole room came alive with magic and Harry’s heart became full of instinctive anticipation.

When the intensity became unbearable Aggelakis lowered his left hand and started drawing with the bloodied digit, explaining softly as he did so.  
“Alpha and Omega, as the start and the end of the Universe...” and so forth...

Harry sponged up everything, both for his own turn and to memorise them for the distant time he was to pass the ritual himself. Not that was completely ignorant, as he had studied Arithmancy and Ancient Runes both by himself and together with Tom and Herm as well.

When that part ended Aggelakis’ voice rose again.

“Είμαι ο Μάνθος Αγγελάκης γιος της Κασσάνδρας Κουζουλού και εγγονός της Μαρίας Χανιωτάκη.” his right hand rested on Harry’s brow.  
“Αυτός είναι το ψυχοπαίδι μου ο Χάρης, παιδί της καρδίας και της ψυχής μου αν και όχι της σάρκας μου. Έχε την ευλογία μου παιδί μου.” again he translated everything for Harry’s favour.

“I’m Manthos Aggelakis, son of Cassandra's Kouzoulou and grandson to Maria Xaniotaki. This is Harry, my godchild, a child of my heart and spirit if not of my flesh. You have my blessing Child.”

Harry would have been taken completely aback by his words if he wasn't affected by something much stronger, he could literally feel Aggelakis spirit and power engulfing both him and stone, but it wasn't only that, he was overwhelmed by a feeling of familiarity. Somehow, someway, he had felt something like that before, although he couldn't, for the life of him, recall when or why.

He looked at Aggelakis with almost bulged eyes, seeking answers, but the Greek shook his head, conveying later, and indicated that he should progress with his part. Harry for once did as he was told and after cutting his finger processed to scribe all those delicate symbols in Linear B as well the numbers.

He could feel the power rising at his fingertips, becoming more malleable, He could also hear Aggelakis into his mind at that point, coaching him on how to proceed.

_‘Introduce yourself, palikari mou, language doesn't matter much at this point and then concentrate on your loved ones, how much you care about them, how much you want to protect them. You will know what to do.’_

Harry rose on his feet to whether the storm he felt was coming and offered himself by his name.  
“I'm Harrison James Evans Potter, son of Lily and James.” for that was his identify, the name given to him by his parents, together with the adjustments he choose by himself.

He concentrated fully on his friends, bringing each face and his feelings to the foremost of his mind, Tom, Hermione, the guys, Minerva, Leonard, somehow losing control and adding his parents, Sirius and Remus. When the tugging to his magic came Harry didn't hesitate, he opened himself completely, giving everything that he had.

His vision had started to dim and he could hear Aggelakis shouting his name and something that sounded like “Panagia mou!” (Mother of God) but he couldn't pay attention or respond. But exactly as he was about ready to collapse there was another magical reserve added to his own and he managed to finish the ritual.

Both he and Aggelakis watched, totally captivated, as the Pebble melted and was transformed into numerous beads, still shining like stars with the acquired magic. But the power drain was too much, as things ended, and Manthos collapsed to the floor. Harry had to bodily drew him on an armchair, as it was only slightly less taxing than using his magic.

“Are you alright?” he croaked.

Manthos tried to wizen out something undoubtedly unflattering in Greek but he didn't have the breath, and took many deep breaths until he was ready to continue.  
“T-twenty one? Are you insane, palikari mou?” he was still unable to shout about it.

Harry looked sheepishly down.  
“I certainly didn't intend to go that far, I only have two palm-full of close ones, but I really wanted it to work.” he admitted.

Manthos looked ready to kill him.  
“Idiot child!” he gritted out, “not even Lord-level wizards can give that much in one go and survive, I’m surprised that you are still alive, never mind standing, and even more so that you didn't take me with you.”

Harry’s cheeks tinged with shame.

“I'm really truly sorry for risking you too and nothing is ever going to contain my gratitude.” the last part had the other glaring but Harry had another thought that had him literally beaming. “Yet, it worked and I can bet that the amulets are going to withstand the serious curses to very least. But what am I going to do with so many?” he couldn't help the question.

Aggelakis glowered.  
“Idiot child! I don’t care what you are going to do with them. Take your share and leave my sight, I’m too tired to deal with you.”

Harry knew that courtesy demanded that he’ll obey and came as far as opening the door, before turning back, but the question was just too important.  
“Why did I recognise the ritual?”

Aggelakis sighed.  
“You were probably blessed as a child and your parents must be very powerful by managing it without a focus crystal.” Harry paled.  
“Definitely powerful if I judge by your scar.”

Harry didn't know how he managed to stay upright. _He had thought that he wasn't affected by this anymore_...  
“How?”

Mr Manthos looked the kinder he had seen him in his life.  
“We were linked by the ritual...I couldn't not see... I'm sorry.”

Harry forced himself to gain his composure.  
 _This could be too sensitive to let it at the other’s knowledge._  
“What did you see?”

Aggelakis expression was totally open; it was disconnecting, but not false.  
“I saw your Mother’s blessing, protecting you even now that you are an adult, but it wasn't the only one, I also saw a mark of hate erased by one from love. You should probably be called trice-marked.” it didn't hold the slightest teasing.

All the same it got Harry to the gut. These few words encompassed his entire life but it was the last explanation that hit him the most. He was well aware that Tom’s feelings went deeper than fancy – _for all that he wasn't going to tell him even on their deathbeds._  But this went somehow more and it got him under all the protective layers, all the way to the heart.

He wanted to hug it to himself and yet hide under the earth by embarrassment both from the source and merely by having it unveiled.  
... _Especially considering that Manthos probably know exactly where it came from_... On top of that, Tom was tugging on their link, which he had painstakingly closed for the ritual...

“...Look, thanks, but I’ve got to go...”

Aggelakis didn’t pay him the tiniest attention. He had stood on his feet, looking totally unaffected by his ordeal, his eyes were dilated, making him seem totally lost to himself, his voice was harsh too...

“You are also half marked by a human, not destiny, as sacrifice. But he didn’t really know his lore... a human sacrifice must be aware of it from start to finish, else it’s meaningless. Remember that, Child, if it comes to this...” his eyes rolled back and he stumbled back to his armchair half unconscious.

Harry was chilled to the bone; he had no doubt whatsoever that had witnessed _again_ a true prophesy. He stayed in his place only until Manthos looked like he was regaining his senses.  
“L-look, I’ve got to go.” he stammered.

Aggelakis looked totally ignorant on what happened and undisturbed.  
“It was time.” he grumbled.

Harry fled to the stairs barely hearing one last order/request.  
“Just...please...send me Sibyl...”

The only thing that was keeping him calm was that the phrasing was about _If_ not _When_ _it will come to this.  
_ _...How he had come to love semantics..!_

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS Edited at 11/21/2014  
> Please review to inspire me for more...


	14. The Fallout...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its time for Harry to pay the piper...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there,
> 
> My problems are far from over so I'm honestly happy that I found the time to finish it:)  
> There is a bit that could be considered a cliff-hanger but would you truly have rather waited a month or more for the resolution?
> 
> This is dedicated to all of for your continuous support, especially Kicia27 who really made my night tonight with her review! (Fast enough darling? :P) but honestly guys sometimes a review (or the rest) is the only thing reminding me that I'm writing a story when I return late and exhausted to my home:D
> 
> You have my sincerest love truly;DDD
> 
> Krysania

 

**Chapter Fourteen:** **The Fallout**

_ **Tom’s pov** _

_‘Carry on, but you better hurry.’_ Tom allowed, more than a little peeved, though he didn’t show it. He smiled at Nadia, expertly hiding his displeasure, and ate another small piece of delicious Pithier Moloko whilst pretending to hear her complains.

 _I_ _t looked like he was going to be here for a little while yet_...

He could have given an excuse and leave but he had no intention to lose face to his followers by taking back his orders and even less to leave Harry totally unsupervised. The fact that he didn't intend to burden himself with all those books was also a factor...

It hadn't been overly taxing, to sweet-talk her into loading him about a third of the bookstore, but it took time and he was frankly bored out of his mind. The only thing making it tolerable were the few titbits of new information and some of the sweets. Speaking of information, he had better pay a tiny bit more attention, something in Nadia’s ramblings sounded marginally noteworthy.

“You were concerned regarding a werewolf threat?” he prompted.  
Nadia smiled, looking pleased by his apparent care.

“You are very kind to be worried about me, Tom, but there is no threat. I’m perfectly capable of dealing with the old toothless beast. Truthfully, he hadn’t made any attempt to hurt me, just to intimidate me into giving him money.”

Tom made himself to appear earnest, not only decisive.

“Allow me to disagree, Madam Kirova, of course there is a reason to be concerned. You are rattled by this; else you wouldn't have spoken about it. Please, tell me everything and let me deal with this, or at least help, alright?” he honestly couldn't care less what the werewolf wanted, or even if he killed her, but he couldn't afford to.

_...Harry’s nagging aside, she had treated him right and was under his protection or, on the mind of the more naive Knockturn denizens, he was under hers. His standing among them could end irrevocably damaged if he didn't protect her, or at the very least revenge her, and she was much more useful alive..._

He briefly considered the practical matters.

_...Werewolves were notoriously resilient against spellwork, the more powerful a werewolf the stronger, so an open attack was going to be a waste. An ambush then... Harry distracting him, if he wasn't in an ethics crisis, or him working alone, he would need to create a spell covering any and all output perceived by the senses... then an injection with melted silver or even better quicksilver._

“I shouldn't, you are still a student, Tom.” Nadia hedged a bit more and he returned his full concentration to the link, or more precisely to it’s almost absence...

Tom had been expecting some kind of defiance from his partner so wasn't really surprised by this. But the complete shielding he had found was a very different matter, worrisome. Fuming inwardly he stealthily tried to gain again entrance to the other’s mind, but it was still to no avail to his utter frustration.

 _Harry was up to something_...

Even when Nadia started giving actual information he still kept more than half of his attention monitoring the link, which proved to be a very prudent thing else he would have been caught totally unaware by the sudden onslaught.

Still the overwhelming magical draining came truly out of nowhere. Tom didn't have time to fully recognise it, never mind analysing it, or his response. He only felt the spark that was Harry and his connection to him fading to nothing and he sent everything he could to his partner, instead of closing the link off to avoid the same fate.

Everything was over in a moment, Tom sensed that he had sent just a tiny fraction of what Harry had given but it was still devastating in its suddenness. He found himself momentarily slouching in his armchair (unforgivable in public) and the only thing keeping him from panic was that he could sense their link pulsing again with life. (although infuriatingly still closed)

 _He didn't know what was really going on, except that it was Harry’s fault, and that he was going to strangle him with his bare hands_...

He muttered a half-arsed excuse and made to get up but Nadia stopped him. She didn't seem to have noticed his weak moment;  
on the contrary, she seemed very rattled herself.

“I know that you are a busy young man, Tom, but I need to talk to you about an important matter, far more important than my little problem.” she looked both embarrassed and totally serious.

Tom sighed inwardly while he smiled.  
“I would gladly hear any and all your concerns, Madam Kirova.” _  
_

 _It looked like Harry’s punishment had got postponed by a few minutes_...

Nadia didn't look calmer by his response; on the contrary her hands seemed to lightly tremble, as she brought her teacup to her lips, but she didn't hesitate, a deep breath and she brought everything to the open.

“I was so proud of you, Tom, when you started courting Hermione, such an intelligent, ambitious, girl, but I couldn’t help but notice yesterday that your close friendship with Mr Evans has evolved in something much too deeper and intensely complicated.” she said almost feverishly fast and looked down. “I know that it’s frankly intruding and normally I would just kept my counsel but I can’t.” she dared to continue on but her voice sounded almost openly pleading. “You aren't an adolescent any more, but a young man on the start of his road. Do you really think that it’s worth it to discard all your dreams and ambitions just for a romance?” she managed to gaze directly to his eyes and flinched by their look, almost gasping.

But Tom had long stopped hearing her. He was only aware of the buzz in his ears and the red haze in from of his eyes. He was already beyond mad with Harry and Nadia’s idiotic presumption –that she could tell him how to live his life– just added plenty of oil to his fire. The only reasons he hadn't stricken her down yet, like a bothersome fly, were firstly surprise and secondary his control.

He knew better than letting loose right now, of course. No matter how much he wanted to punish her for her nosiness – _well mostly Harry_ – _(this, and to give himself something to vent before facing him)_ there was ample possibility that someone in the Ministry had heard that he was coming here, or that it got caught in some recording devise, and even the fact that he had worked here was just a matter of public record.

Not that she wasn't going to pay dearly... _even with blood..._ but he needed to be organized about it. He wondered how easy it could be to imitate werewolf wounds even to the Aurors or Mediwizards... Maybe he should try to be lazy and merciful for once, to save her from the werewolf just a bit too late... As Harry hinted, only yesterday, it was way beneath him to deal with her, and he doubted that she was going to survive for long the bite’s consequences in her age anyway...

 _One thing certain,_ if Harry’s explanations didn't satisfy him he was going to end at clean up duty. Maybe the second dose, _of the ‘alive’ kind_ , was finally going to made him get it... For now he needed to deal verbally with Nadia, it was going to be too suspicious to do otherwise; she was already almost passed out from frigid due to his red eyes...

“I was wondering, Madam Kirova,” he started, voice formal and deadly soft, like a razor edged blade; “what gives you the authority to interfere in my life? I’m nothing but an ex-employee after all...”

Those words seemed to upset her even more than the visible sight of his powerful rage, she looked ready to cry.  
“I know that I don’t have any formal rights but you also know that I consider you like a grandson.”

Tom’s lips tightened, his red eyes narrowed to slits. He was very aware that she was way softer to him than a normal employer, but not with bringing the matter up now... _it sounded way too cheap._

“Really, then how come you never thought to go formal about it? A respected pureblood name like Kirov would have gone a long way to aid my ambitions which you were so concerned about.” he twisted sharply the knife.

Nadia was beyond shocked.  
“It never crossed my mind that you could want it, you are already an adult and so independent... it’s not like there is much respect for us emigrants’ here.” she smiled ruefully.

Tom’s smile was cold like a blizzard.

“My friend’s, Antonin, family seems rather fine to me but it’s currently of no consequence.” he got up. “I know that things are different now but, all the same, allow me to keep the books, for a few days at least, they are much needed.” somewhere it could pass for courtesy but it was truly an order.

Nadia took it as neither.

“Oh please! Like I would have asked you to give them up with what’s ahead you.” suddenly she looked shy. “I'm sorry for upsetting you but if you really think that my name could help you out I would gladly give it to you.” seeing no reaction from him she twisted her hands.  
“You really don’t have to leave, you know.”

Tom’s lips twitched in amusement but it could pass for sadness.

“I'm not sure it’s such a good idea Madam, and unfortunately I must decline your kind offer. I'm, as you pointed out, very independent and not going to give it up even for family.” he smiled honestly.  
“Truthfully, I already have all the family I will ever need.” it was true, even if he currently wanted to wring said family’s neck.

Nadia took it like a blow.  
“You really think that I could write you off because you like boys?” Tom didn't even need to answer. It upset her even more and she looked ready for a heart attack.

“Sit down for God’s sake; I'm not a prudish Englishwoman to do so. Back home, at the Tsar’s court, it hardly mattered and definitely didn't impede careers... I just wish you were there, you could have gotten so high...” she sighed forlornly, probably for the both of them.

 _Circumstances permitting even high enough_...

Tom decided to humour her and relaxed in his armchair... he had started enjoying her rand.  
“Don’t worry, I can be discreet and so does Harry.” he allowed a smile, there was no reason they shouldn't end this talk in amicable terms.

Nadia snorted her opinion to this.  
“For you I don’t doubt... for Harry...” her silence filled the blanks.

Tom sent her a poisonous look, he was still mad with him but nobody else had a right to pick on Harry.  
That look got her even more agitated and she got up and started pacing.

“Look, Tom, I've already put repeatedly my foot to my mouth so you won’t mind it once more. That association you have with Harry, whether it is lovers or family, its what concerns me the most.” this time his glare made her to back off a few steps but she still didn't drop it.

“Harry is a lovely child, polite and kind with everyone, even if he is not an intellectual. I could really like him but he is so brave and impulsive that puts my teeth on edge... In the summer he got you defending Diagon with that madman, two days ago you defended Hogsmeade against Grindelwald himself, and sooner rather than later you are going to face him again, I'm not stupid you know. How long until he gets you killed like my stupid son in law did my grandson?” she crossed her arms.

Tom reminded himself that it was better if things ended peacefully.  
“I don’t know your family situation but I can definitely assure you, I can protect myself.”

Disgustedly, her eyes filled with tears.

“That’s what my Misha thought so too, he was brilliant like you, but such an idealist and he let his father convince him when he started spouting. What business did he had, a mere boy, with Bolsheviks? We were from a noble line, we should have gone... Instead he died from a muggle bullet and the idiot Piotr not much later. My poor Sasha, my daughter, died from grief from losing them both.”

Tom wanted to point out that her family history had absolutely nothing to do with him and he barely held back from voicing at how weak he thought her daughter...

But Nadia hadn't finished yet.  
“Your Harry is such an idealist too and much, much, worse. Sooner or later he is going to meet his end too, in such a battle, and then what are you going to do? He is your whole life as you p...”

Maybe it was the beyond unlucky timing but her words had hit Tom like a whip to his face. Any kind of logical thought was in the past.

He didn't let her finish, his hand had closed violently around her neck.  
“I can guarantee to you that nothing is ever going to hurt Harry.” he kept his hand there, squeezing, until she nodded that she had understood, only then he let her go.

Tom was appalled with himself, not for almost killing her, which was merely just deserts in his opinion, but for dropping his mask prematurely. He had never done so before in her presence...

He expected that she would twist her impressive wards to throw him out but her reaction was way beyond his comprehension.  
Nadia hadn't even got her breath right however her words came forth both demure and proud but mostly truly insane:  
“Then I'm going to have two grandsons if you will allow me.”

At almost the same moment they heard a loud crash. Harry had broken down both wards and door, panting alarmingly from magical if not corporal fatigue, but he still had forced his way inside to save her.

Tom couldn't help a sardonic eyebrow, mocking her and the dawning comprehension into her eyes...

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Tom was enjoining Harry’s confusion and discomfort with Nadia’s mothering but his lips tightened when she offered him a Pepper Up with his tea. She was right of course; Harry’s appearance was ghastly, deathly pale and almost trembling with fatigue from the power drain, but the fact he was bad enough that his weakness was appraised by a mere look from a virtual stranger was adding to his already towering wrath.

It wasn't of course the only reason for his partner’s unease.

Tom didn't need a mirror to know that his eyes hadn't darkened to violet –yet– and he doubted that it was going to happen soon. He could tell that Nadia was still anxious about such a display of power and anger but she was finally keeping her counsel to herself and Harry was keeping quiet as well, to avoid implicating her to their fight if he could help it.

He could feel Harry’s eyes on him too, appraising in his turn, for all that he played it clueless, making nice with Nadia and complimenting the sweets, he was waiting for the explosion. But Tom had no intention to give it to him so soon, even if Nadia saw nothing wrong with leaving them alone if he asked. For once it was going to limit a great deal the incoming punishment and secondly and more importantly this was a personal matter and he had given her enough rights as it was.

... _No, everything was going to come in the right time_...

Few minutes later his followers dared to grace the door, led by a purposeful Granger, and they were admitted without fuss. A look to their worried, guilty, expressions and the barest of scans told him that they had sat idly while Harry risked his neck.

_Very well then, they were going to face the consequences. Much better to spend his ire to them now, than on Harry, and probably do irrevocable damage, he still looked like he could fell from a strong breeze, and it was definitely going to hurt him more._

Nadia was ecstatic to see her and to host more of his ‘friends’ – she was very welcoming. She seemed ready to offer them tea as well, but then she noticed the late time and changed it, insisting to diner. Tom judged it more prudent to stay and accepted for everyone, but wasn't surprised when Harry protested with the excuse to not disappoint Dorea and was pleased when Leonard contested it, saying that he had sent a Patronus informing her that they were going to be late.

The preparations to set the modest room to host comfortably ten people was nothing, effort wise, and he undertook them with his customary mask of graciousness and ease with his surroundings, which seemed to alleviate the last of Nadia’s worries.  
 _It looked like she had decided to take his explosion as an aberration and totally forgive it, foolish old lady that she was._

Not that the whole thing didn't have any divergence at all to her behaviour, far from it. The positive change became more than apparent when she took to serve them the food by herself and her house elf, instead of asking Hermione to help her with it, like usual. She was still very cordial with the chit but didn’t treat her as if she were her future daughter in law.

_At least there was never going to be a repeating of that particular tedious discussion._

His followers had taken this turn of evens as a break before execution and relaxed, in opposition to Harry who tensed even more. They talked about safe topics and it even come about that Dorea had been a regular client of Exandus until her husband had got captured and she stopped going out altogether.

All of them were properly deferential to their elderly hostess of course, he would have expected nothing less towards a pureblood Lady, but a bit of attention made him realise that his act had given them an exaggerated impression and they were treating her like if she were his mother, not merely his ex-boss. Even Leonard and Minerva were following the others’ example.

 _He had spent an illogical amount of time in this place_.

Finally, after she got the tray of the sweets out again, he had enough of this game and nodded discretely to the others to get ready. Naturally they did it promptly and were loaded with the books soon enough, even the girls. Harry was especially displeased when he ended the only one empty handed but Tom didn't even have to shot him down at this, the others did it by themselves without prompting. Granger’s rant was both loud and lengthy and the others’ not much behind, Nadia’s most of all.

That fact displeased Harry even more but his reaction wasn't in full effect due to his exhaustion. Tom wasn't amused.

At different circumstances he could have found it endearing –that stubbornness– now it just pissed him off more. The Pepper Up had helped, Harry had stopped looking like he rose from his deathbed, but he was still unsteady on his feet and weak as a kitten. No, Tom was amazed he had managed to apparate and not keel over...and yet he wanted to help carry the books on top of this too...  
 _...If he believed that he could get away with merely carrying books then golden boy was approaching delusional_...

They said their goodnights and set for Potter Manor via apparition with Harry complaining at all the way as he was forced to go sidelong.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

His partner’s concerns regarding Lady Potter were proven right as they found her waiting for them in the foyer with a book. Leonard took it upon him to offer explanations for the decision but the Lady’s attention, after assuring herself that her son was alright, was focused entirely on Harry and she held him by her, once the others progressed deeper into the house. Tom chose to stay as well.

“What happened to you, Harry? You look really ill, should I call a healer, maybe Madam Wilson, as you are acquainted with her?” her voice was openly concerned too.

That got Harry to react predictably.  
“Please no, Aunt Dorea, I'm alright, truly. I don’t need a healer, especially Madam Wilson.” he defended vehemently, a breath later adding a sheepish: “No insult intended.”

But he had fallen on someone almost as stubborn as he; while Dorea was visibly ecstatic to be called aunt, not noticing or not caring at the manipulation, she pursed her lips and started cajoling.

“You are not alright, Harry dear. If you have overtaxed yourself, risking your recent healing and don’t want to face her about it, I can call Neville, Lord Longbottom. He is a close friend of the family and works specifically with the aurors, so he is used to such things and will neither scold you nor pry, I promise.”

Harry blushed horribly and tried again to protest but Dorea was firm and Tom finally decided to stop the chase and interfered.  
 _The healer’s presence wouldn't do any good anyway.  
_

“Your concern is much appreciated Lady Dorea, but no healer, or even hospital, can truly help with magical exhaustion.  
He just needs sleep and a lot of it.”

Harry sent him a furious, suspicious, glare but contested it only with a single:  
“It’s not that bad.”

Dorea’s eyes turned calculating, but not in a way that discarded Harry – even though he appeared weaker than her expectations...  
 _She had started getting attached too._

“This is not strictly true, Tom. While not publicly known, there is a dark potion in the Potter Grimoire that can battle most of its effects." a smile,  
"I can brew it tonight.”

Tom sent her an almost entirely honest smile; he had caught something like that in the grimoire and intended to brew it himself if need to be, as Prince was prohibited from it, but Dorea had fell right to his hands and freed him much needed time.  
“Thank you, Lady Dorea.”

Dorea smiled as well, pleased by his concern.  
“I thank you, Tom, for telling me the true problem.” her smile got a bit lopsided.  
“But you should call me just Dorea, you are family too.”

Tom scoffed at the sentimentality inside but smiled and nodded on the outside.  
“As you wish, Dorea.”

Harry was still very uncomfortable with the whole affair but accepted the inevitable with grace.  
“Thanks Aunt Dorea, it means a lot.”

Dorea beamed at the warmth of his voice.  
“Think nothing of it dear; just go to rest, for it to work perfectly in the morning.”

But Harry wasn't in such a bad shape to have entirely deserted his wits. While he smiled at Dorea and said that he would, his look towards him, while supposedly coy, was burning with his suspicions.  
“And you, Tom, what are you going to do?”

Tom sent him his shark smile; he had no reason to avoid the truth.  
“It’s early yet, not even nine, the others will be on the laboratory, I will join them to work on the Stone and then train with them for a bit.”

Harry didn't need straighter words, he understood perfectly and his eyes flashed with rage. He straightened his body, expelling his weakness like snake skin, and smiled apologetically at Dorea.  
“Excuse me Aunt, I will rest, but I really need to talk with Tom first.” he grabbed his hand, almost dragging him away.

Tom was so pleased with the change that he allowed it; – _it wouldn't do to have that fight in public anyway..._

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Harry didn't lead him far, only to the ballroom, the farthest large room from the lab in the house, – _it was going to do._

Silently, they both cast privacy and locking charms but after that was done Harry was the first to open the fight and he did it with an audacious:  
“What on earth you think you are planning?” baiting him.

Tom had counted on exactly that type of reaction but the self-righteous tone tested the control to his rage all the same.  
Still, he hid it, smirking and waiting to see what his friend would willingly volunteer.  
“Nothing that’s not justified, or totally within my rights.” he told him airily.

Harry sent him an unimpressed look.  
“Let’s assume that it’s truly within your inflated idea of rights, but justified?” his voice was calm this time, except dubious, testing.

Tom just looked at him; he could see the other’s unease for all the conversational tone – _especially from this–_ and responded in kind, expertly twisting the knife.

“My orders were straightforward, to not lose you from their eyes and keep you away from trouble. In what of those did they succeed, or even actually tried?” Harry was indignant and it wasn't completely faked.

“You won’t touch them. That was under my orders and completely my fault.” he still didn't volunteer the how, just raising an eyebrow.  
“Or was that proposal, for a co leadership, merely empty words?” the last part was definitely a challenge but held a little bit of hurt that the offer had withdrew that fast.

Tom’s fists clenched with this, but he was grimly satisfied that his arrow had caught flesh and far from ready to stop taunting yet.  
 _It was the only thing keeping him sane._

“Oh, that was never at risk, darling, assuming of course that you have control of your mental facilities.” he smiled brightly.  
“You don’t want them to get hurt now, do you?”

The powerful flash to the other’s eyes told him that that had hurt even more but it still wasn't enough to break Harry,  
he stayed composed yet again.

“Semantics, Tom, I didn't put them in any danger. The only threat to them is currently you, not me, which you really truly shouldn't, oath and all.” his partner smiled at him sweetly but it held nothing pleasant.

Tom’s patience was running thin and his fists were getting slick with blood – _cut from his very nails–_ by holding on.  
 _But_ _he wasn't going to break first._  
That resolution was his only anchor at the moment.

“Maybe, but you are still a danger to yourself, look at the condition you returned...” he forced himself to smile as pleasantly as Harry.  
“...And you have no right to mention oaths.” he put it almost offhandedly, underlining the threat.

But Harry didn't pay any attention to his words his eyes were riveted to his face and then to his bloodied fists, softening considerably.  
“Tom, I...” he hesitantly tried, licking his lips.

_That was it!_

Tom had held on his control even against Harry’s acidic tongue but he couldn’t stand his compassion. His wand was out as by instinct and was casting before the actual thought was formed to his mind. The Cruciatus was involuntary and totally unrestrained, fuelled by his tremendous rage; it wasn’t over in seconds either.

The moment his head cleared, somewhat, Tom was shocked and disgusted by his own action. While thoroughly beating Harry was definitely on the cards after the scare he had given him, such a complete loss of control was both weak and unproductive – _his partner could have easily died from it in his present condition._

It wasn't the only thing that shocked him though.

Harry had been hit by the full force of his Cruciatus – _maybe beyond that._ The natural thing would have been for him to fall on the floor, trashing madly and screaming himself hoarse, from the unbearable pain. But no such thing...

 _Well, there was definitely pain_ – Harry’s face had been contorted in a horrible grimace, but not a sound had left his lips and even when the curse was dispatched he didn’t collapse in any stage of exhaustion.

 _It was insane, Harry had no such power; no one on_ _Earth_ _had.  
_ He was mad as hell too.

The exact moment that Harry was able to breathe again he staggered the few steps that were parting them and grabbed him by the tie.  
“What the hell were you thinking?” he shouted right to his face.

Tom told himself that he wasn't going to kill him right this instant – _it was going to be too easy._ He grabbed the offending wrists, holding them where they were, and squeezed mercilessly, nearly snapping the bones. Harry still didn't make any sound.  
 **“** **You, you dare to ask me that?”** he hissed – _to not scream–_ right back.

But the pain had grounded Harry and there was again understanding in his eyes, except the building anger and pain.  
 **“I'm alright, Tom, nothing happened.”** he hissed too, as if to ease him.

Tom forgot even the meaning of the word restrain; he violently shoved Harry at the nearest wall, crashing him against it. Harry wasn't one to simply accept it, shoving right back and using his whole body to do it. Tom was beyond disgusted with himself when his body responded, he wasn't the only one though and used exactly that to pin Harry there.

“Nothing happened?” he didn't allow him to answer, his fingers closed around Harry’s neck, marking him with his blood and constricting, far harsher than he ever attempted with his partner before.  
“Don’t you dare lying to Me.” every word a hard squeeze, the line parting punishment from outright murder becoming an incredibly thin one.

Harry continued to fight him but was too weakened by whatever the hell he had done to be truly effective. As the lack of air started becoming a problem though his fingers clamped around Tom’s own with their entire steely strength, forcing him to ease, or have them break. The fact that Tom didn't – _really–_ want him killed played its part too...

A handful of deep breaths later Harry started berating him, still keeping his hands prisoners as he didn't trust him to not attack him, Tom let him – _for the moment.  
_

“The hell, Tom, I didn't lie. It wasn't an easy thing, hence my state, but I'm here and, as you can see, fully alive.” his voice was a lot more strained than usual but he wasn't allowing himself more than the natural breaks.

Tom gritted his teeth until they were ready to snap but tried to regain some semblance of composure.  
 _The longest that Harry stayed the calmest one the more control he had over this_ , _as_ _his partner kept his occlumency barriers ridiculously high.  
_

“Really love? I would call breaking your word something very different, but what was the so taxing thing that you did, you never mentioned?” he asked silkily.

The fist that he couldn't avoid and the taste of blood told him that he had succeeded, he used the other’s momentum and the hand that Harry hadn't time to release in his rapid action sending his partner back to the wall but he didn't return the punch.  
 _I_ _f he started he wasn't going to stop and he needed those answers._

Harry’s rage didn't seem to ease one bid.  
“Tom, you bastard, I've never broke it. I have killed – _murdered_ – to keep my word to you.” his voice strained even more at this but then he jutted his chin up. “And it’s none of your business.”

_So much for his composure!_

Tom didn't even felt his body consciously move, just his hand closing harshly on Harry’s hair, forcing him to raise his head as far as it got while he lowered his, bringing their eyes just inches apart, their laborious breaths mixing.

“That was then, darling. I felt you slipping away. _Dying!”_ he hated himself for the emotional catch to his voice but he hated Harry and the responding softening to his eyes even more. He tightened the hold to his hair to something even more painful.

Harry’s eyes involuntary watered but his expression didn't change, there was clearly an apology and understanding present, but regretful resolution was definitely the dominant emotion.

“I didn't want to go that far and I'm really sorry for this,” _'_ _for scaring you_ ,' although that part was tactfully not said,  
“I’ll do my best to not do it again.” _–_ _meaning that if there was need about it his given word was obsolete and void.  
_ “-Stop-that-”

Again Tom’s hands had moved without his consent and he was shaking Harry until his teeth were chattering.  
“You understood wrong.” he whispered. “No more suicidal stuns, for any reason, I'm holding you to your word.” an order.

Harry batted his hands away.  
“It’s not your decision, you have no right.” there was no hesitation or uncertainly to his voice.

Tom grabbed him again, forcing his hands above his head, this time in total control of himself.

“Think again love. If you are going to keep doing that to me I’d rather kill you myself and get it over.” Harry didn't react to this, looking stonily forward, and Tom smirked chillingly, he hadn't finished yet.  
“I definitely wouldn't look so self-righteous in your place.” he admonished; “You are not that selfless.”

“Fuck off!” Harry protested venomously and his attempts to free himself were anything but jokes, but a hard jut to his hips put a definite end to those, proving the truth to his words.

The steely hardness he found there was nothing less than what he expected and yet Tom took no pleasure with it, or even at being right, as it was a very sharp reminding that there were still reasons – _pretty good ones–_ to fear the validity of Harry’s feelings. Still, he bowed to meet the corresponding moan, but didn't kiss him, as his partner clearly expected, although the whispering to his ear could be considered a caress.

“Not so fast, sweetheart, you have been hard since the fight started and stayed that way even when I nearly killed you, this speaks more of an insane, suicidal, adrenaline addict than a hero.”

Harry’s look was withering.  
“Like you are any different?”

Tom nearly laughed.

“Maybe, but definitely not suicidal.” a bite to his cartilage and his next sweetly threatening hiss was directly above Harry’s lips.  
 **“You want to die? I will give it to you. I will kill you and bring you back again and again until you have enough...”** he wasn't sure he was joking at this moment.

Thankfully Harry wasn't that suicidal, he kicked him with all his strength, breaking the fibula, and managing to get away from being cornered. But Tom wasn't that defeated, administering an analogous curse as he fell, Harry collapsed just a few feet away from him. They took a moment to heal themselves and they were facing each other again. Tom felt no mercy but Harry managed just fine for all his weakened state, although he repeatedly had to cause priory between them (a thing formally agreed to be avoided) to keep things so.

Tom found himself admiring his sheer stubbornness once again but even when his depleted power started to seriously desert him Harry didn't give up, just raised his head, baring his neck, and looked at him with that proud, half-daring, half-suicidal expression.  
 _‘You want to kill me? Do it. I dare you!’_

He suddenly had enough of this.  
“What on earth you did that’s so serious you prefer dying than confessing about it?”

Harry was at a loss.  
“Tom, I didn't...”

 _His patience was over._  
“Please spare me. Ever since we got here your responses were either intentionally provocative, or you tried to turn things into sex, you were distracting me.”

Harry was offended by this.  
“I didn't try to use sex.”

Tom hid a weary sigh.  
“Fine, it wasn't conscious... Now will you tell me what you did? I doubt that I can grow angrier.” a smirk.  
“I've never heard of someone overthrowing the Cruciatus...”

Harry had to hide a triumphal grin and sent him a ‘look’, but he finally complied.  
“Fine, you were going to find out anyway in a day or two.” he threw him a small, white, silken bag.

Tom was beyond curious at this point and opened the bag without a check for curses, he trusted Harry to not give him anything harmful even at the current circumstances. Harry sent him a half-bitter smile for the show of trust, but was too absorbed to what he found to notice it with anything more but his peripheral vision.

“What on earth are these beads?” even at the moment he asked he already knew half the answer.

The sea-blue, marble sized, beads were totally infused with Harry’s power and an almost negligible part of his own. – _No wonder he hadn’t noticed–_ Above Harry’s person there was no difference with his magical aura and collected as a whole they could pass for him, if one checked only for signature.

Harry sent him a half teasing smile, for demanding an explanation instead of figuring things by himself, but complied.  
“They are deflecting amulets.” still his tone was the tiniest bit defensive.

_Well, that was definitely informative!_

Tom held back an uncouth muttering.  
“Already figured that, genius, the question is why you made them and, more importantly, who helped you with the ritual in the first place?”

Harry was taken aback.  
“How?” but a moment later he was rolling his eyes. “If you guessed that much why bother with the question?” Tom sent him a look and he sighed.  
“They are my Christmas gifts, one of them yours by the way;” he grinned unrepentantly yet didn't offer an answer to the second one though.

Tom bit his cheek, asking for patience, but offered something on the table too.  
“One: Nothing less than a full ritual could have gathered that much power. And Two: Who you think helped you survive it?” a wink,  
“But why you needed something that extreme in the first place?” utter silence.

“Harry?”

Harry looked stunned and grateful by his revelation; he squeezed his hands with trembling fingers.

“Thank you Tom, thank you so much!” he beamed, yet was also still equally irritable with him, but Tom doubted that he could reach his own point.  
“...I still can’t believe you asked that...have you forgotten what we’ll have to do nine days from now. The guys will need any possible help to stay alive.” his hands were moving in intense gestures, illustrating his point.

Tom rolled his eyes. _He should have known!_  
“That I can actually believe,” he drawled but was far from a true teasing mood yet.  
“But you still haven’t told me who helped you. Don’t make me ask for a third time.” he didn’t even need to use threatening tone.

Harry understood it too.  
“I asked Mr Manthos’ help and he was kind enough to agree and share a part of his heritage with me...happy now?” his tone artificially light.

Tom was actually far from happy but at least he had a new target for his ire.  
“Why on earth you asked the help of that drunkard, are you mad?” he held his voice strictly controlled.

Not that it mattered to Harry, judging from his expression, he was offended as if he had insulted the Potters.  
“For Salazar’s sake, Tom, don’t call him that! I thought that you were all for appreciating power for power; Mr Aggelakis’ ritual was incredible and you can’t deny the amazing results.”

Tom both could and would...  
“Can’t I?” he asked dangerously, “I'm going to call him whatever it pleases me and you are going to accept it.”

 _Fo_ _r however long I'm going to let him live that’s it..._  
“Maybe, if your Greek friend didn't drank so much you wouldn't be half dead at this moment.” he concluded silkily.

Harry wasn't immediate in his defence this time and if Tom had to describe his look it was acutely guilty.  
 _He had a very bad feeling about this...  
_ “Actually, Tom, that was definitely not Mr Manthos’ fault. He had instructed me to give as much I could but...”

“You translated it to literally extirpating your magical core.” Tom pinched his nose sharply, at this point so beyond tired that he couldn't even summon an angry response, it didn't help that he wasn't really surprised with this...

 _...H_ _e should have anticipated it, truly_...

“Err, yeah... I'm sorry.” Harry was looking down, truly remorseful, but it was more about worrying him than risking his neck.

Tom’s lips tightened, but decided to use his current numbness to get it over with the bad news.  
“So? What did he want?” he asked casually.

“Tom?” Harry tried for innocent but the minute widening to his eyes told him all he wanted to know, _it was bad_...

Tom ground his teeth and rephrased it.  
“Harry. What did the guzzler asked from you? You said he shared a part of his heritage, not even Aggelakis could do that for nothing.”

Harry had to close his eyes to this before straightening his body into total stiffness and Tom reasserted things  _–_ _bad wasn't even covering it_...  
“He asked me to take care of his last remaining relative as if she was my blood and pass the ritual to her eventual children, if they come.” he sounded resigned.

 _If that was the general level of the demands Harry’s powerful luck had hit again_... _  
_“So?” he asked with some amusement.  
... _That sounded way too easy to truly bother Harry..._

Harry sighed dramatically.  
“It’s Trelawney!”

Tom couldn't help himself, he bursted out laughing, freeing some of the tension to his body. _–_ _Harry truly deserved it and he was going to encourage the bothersome little bug just to see him twitching_...

Harry mock glared at him.  
“You laugh, but if Mr Manthos didn't dislike you as much you do he would have asked for your hand for her.”

Tom’s mirth evaporated.

 _The little pest was worst than Myrtle and he wasn't going to be able to curse her as she was as good as Harry’s sister from now on_ , his eyes narrowed: _Harry was still trying to distract him to bring it on._

“What else?”

There wasn't even a flicker to Harry’s eyes to betray that his game had been up.  
“I swore to destroy Grindelwald, even at the cost of my own life’s.” absolutely no hesitation.

Tom wanted to swear up a blue steak but he knew Harry enough to know that even that wasn't what had set him in such an edge.  
“What Else?” he asked tensely.

This got a surprised look from Harry, who expected a much stronger reaction.  
“I swore to never become a Dark Lord,” that one was so obvious that it didn't deserve a comment and he just sent him a look.

Harry met it head on and his voice was completely steady as he added the last part.  
“I swore to never allow the rising of another Dark Lord either.” absolutely no emotion and no attempt of shielding whatsoever.

_Enough was enough!_

Tom didn't allow himself to truly think about it, he simply fired a reducto, destroying the opposite wall.  
“Well, that one explains the attempted suicide!” he told him dryly.

There was an unguarded moment but Harry didn't have the time to explain.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

The sound of rapid clinking heels and Dorea’s rattled voice interrupted them.  
“Harry? Tom? Are you alright boys? What happened?” obviously the explosion had weakened the wards.

Harry remained composed.  
“We are alright Aunt Dorea, it was an accident. We will fix it.”

Whatever Dorea Potter heard in his voice it was enough to free them from the hook, for now.  
“Alright dear, it happens. Just please don’t bother with it, you are exhausted and the potion needs thee hours more shimmering to the very least.”

“I’ll handle it, Lady Dorea.” Tom promised readily to get her away from his back.

As his shock started passing and things turning out plainly unbearable he found himself not only hiding his feelings, he couldn't feel anything too, the casting out of his emotions becoming as natural as breathing. Still it certainly didn't sound perfect, for once, because Dorea heard enough warning in his voice to not come near them and chitchat, or even to insist again for him to drop the honorific.

“Thank you Tom dear, I appreciate it.” he could make the sounds of her departing. But Tom didn't spare even a cursory thought regarding Dorea, or his lacklustre performance, his mind, cleared from all emotion, was spinning with decisions.

_Harry should die for this, of that he was certain._

_There was no other punishment that could cover such a betrayal. It should be the easiest thing to kill him right now, in his weakened state, but it would also require eliminating the Potters, Granger and Minerva, to the very least.  
He couldn't see a way to do it and get away with it at present, never mind that the difficulty was going to increase in a couple days._

Still, even if he could, there was still Grindelwald’s matter to consider. Harry had gotten him into this mess in the first place so he could easily serve him as his human shield in the battle to the very least and if he survived past it then and only then he would need to plan the appropriate execution. The next week was going to be taxing on his acting talent but not overtly much.

Harry hadn't dropped his eyes from his once regarding those musings and certainly didn't seem to have any doubt on the verdict.  
“Shouldn't you at least try to hear out my reasons?” still he sounded calm, far too calm and assured, not a hint of pleading there, or even simply regret.

Tom’s fury rose; _Harry was going to grew regretful yet._

“Why? What could I possibly gain by this drivel? Will your idiotic reasons change your action?” he ignored Harry’s protests and started playing with the bag, twisting the knife as far as it got. “It was all for nothing of course.” his lips twisted on a biter smile. “The moment I’d kill you I’ll be free to kill them easily too, where that does leaves your hard work and protection? You betrayed us for nothing.” the last words literally spat.

That one broke Harry’s composure but, strangely enough, it wasn't about his friends.  
“Fuck it, Tom, I've never betrayed you.” he sounded pissed but his eyes betrayed his hurt more than anything else.

“Really, my precious one, you lie even to yourself. What would you call returning to the Light?” utterly poisonous honey.  
The pain on those eyes had started becoming bothersome and he turned his back.  
“Now stop wasting my time with your lies and half hearted excuses.”

That treatment finally broke Harry’s apathy.  
“I sure as hell don’t lie, or returned to the Light.” the words were spat out. “Do to me what you will but don’t dare say that!” he grasped his shoulder, forcing Tom to face him.

Even in his dispassionate state it was impossible for Tom to keep himself in complete control after this. He pretty much used the other’s momentum, making his partner stumble badly, and turned sharply his arm to his back, almost dislocating Harry’s shoulder in the process.  
“Don’t touch me again,” he whispered menacing, almost against the other’s face. “else the Potters will die tonight.”

Harry was never one to accept defeat and now that calm was out of the picture he struggled with everything he had.  
“You won’t hurt them, you have sworn their protection.” he panted.

Tom managed to subdue him but it was far from painless.  
“Wrong darling, according to our very own pact, all oaths and promises are now null and void.” his own voice wasn’t at his steadiest but he fixed the wall to prove it.

Harry was perplexed by this.  
“You can’t really believe that, even by your own reasoning, my magic is still intact.”

Tom told himself to not go into debate for this but it was impossible, he could never resist picking Harry’s brain.  
“Well, it looks like a flux to me, a magical impasse.” he shrugged.

“Someone could take your current suicide attempt as support to your claims but I won’t. I am a Dark Lord. You swore freely to take me out as such even if you regretted it afterwards, my own opinion stands too.”

“But I didn't swore that!” Harry was all but tugging his hair in his frustration.

“I swore to use any means available to stop anyone with Lord level like power who will use said power to enslave people and keep them subdued by terror.” a soulful look. “But you are not planning to do that, are you? You promised to do things in the political way.” a deep breath,  
“So there is absolute no reason for things to come to this.” he sounded hopeful, desperate and resolute.

 _Tom had no idea why he continued this moot talk.  
_ “Ideally I fully intend to keep it that way but if the political campaign fails for any reason did you expect that I would give up?” he was very curious about the answer though.

Harry didn't miss a beat.

“Even if Dumbledore manages to blacklist us we can always try for civil unrest, the existing list of people subjugated by the ministry is so long that it’s not even funny. The simplest pressure of all of them collected could overthrow a government. We don’t need terrorism, not even as the last resort.” he bargained.

Tom could tell that Harry had thought about this, deeply, he wasn't just pulling things out of his arse to appease him, or gain time.  
“This approach could end more bloodied than specifically targeted hits.” he replied delicately, testing.

The look on Harry’s eyes was literally tortured and full of unshed tears, but the expression didn't falter, if anything it became even more determined than before.

“I know, but it will be the people’s choice, I can’t ask for anything more.” he supported his conviction by opening his mind and presenting the entire talk regarding the oath.

_It wasn't the merely the memories passing through..._

Tom didn't just observe Harry rush like a Gryffindor _(and get expertly manipulated by the Greek_ _too)_ he got a full dose of his mightily conflicting emotions, even the deepest ones. Harry may have started the whole messy issue to protect his friends but it was far from his only objective.

Harry had valid reasons to be so terrified that ended up agreeing to this, he had spend countless sleepless nights since they returned to the 40s trying to anticipate every possible outcome to their plans and actions and a way to rise politically even at their current near nobody station.

_(And how it smarted when he realised that a tiny part of him missed his ‘Boy Who Lived’ status and the power and political clout going with it)_

He wasn't blindsided to his true nature and accepted it better than anyone else, going as far as even understanding the necessity of some things, but he couldn't really handle the possible violence he was ready to stomach out of love too. Harry was frankly terrified with the fact that if he hadn't interfered to save Nadia in time it would have taken just a well crafted excuse to agree helping him to cover the body.

This wasn't merely a way to put pressure on him to keep a relatively bloodless path either, it was Harry’s forceful insurance to himself that he was going to keep him from becoming a monster with every means he had, or else to be forced to kill him should the need arise, even if he had doubts that he could bear it even then, or yet prefer his own death over it.

Tom could understand and even accept its reasoning, up to a point, but he was disgusted with the sanctimoniousness of it all and beyond enraged from the emotional blackmail, yet he could see that Harry himself wasn't completely consciously aware of it.

A part of him was risking everything just for a confirmation that he was so loved that Tom wouldn't kill him no matter what and even deeper still it was directed by the wish that if things were to end then it should happen the soonest possible.

... _He was that important to the other_...

A part of him flared viciously to that presumptuousness and it crossed his mind to pretend he forgiven him and take him to bed just to sate his needs and get him out of his system once and for all –to see Harry shattering with the realisation. But no, it wasn’t going to do any good, or cure him. His obsession with Harry had started years before noticing him in that light, such a step could only used against him.

_...He had enough with such weakness..._

Whatever Tom felt _–_ except rage _–_ from what he discovered into Harry’s mind, he didn't allow himself to show it. He regarded Harry with a sneer.  
“Excellent suggestion! If things turn to this I will be sure to take it under consideration.” his tone utterly dismissive.

Harry was nothing if not proud, he wiped every trace of emotion from his face, he was going to show nothing if he was to die.  
“So you are going to kill me then?” he asked casually.

Tom gritted his teeth, hating himself, because even now he wasn't completely resolved about it.  
“What choice do I have? You already decided the course.”

That one couldn't remain unanswered though. Harry’s eyes flashed.  
“Me? You are the one overreacting –it was already explicit agreed and understood that you will try the political way and that if you changed your mind and got all Voldemort I would be opposing you no matter what –the oath changes nothing.”

Tom’s anger flared. The little presumptuous bastard!  
“It changes everything!” he roared.

Harry was almost as agitated but on the sad kind.  
“Do you really want to become Voldemort?”

Tom scoffed.  
“Of course not.” _–_ _was he playing the idiot?_

Harry looked a mix of relieved and patient.  
“Then what changed?”

Tom was amazed that Harry hadn't got it, supporter of free choice that he was.

“What changed? Only you could be so thick darling. Before it was my choice whether I followed suit or not. Now not only you are forcing it out but, even if I was weak enough to agree, I'm probably going to lose you anyway facing Grindelwald or during some other madness.” it was a near failed battle.

Harry had the nerve to softly smile at him.  
“But you won’t lose me, not if you don’t want it. Have you forgotten the horcrux?”

Tom had been actually so agitated that he had forgotten indeed.  
If he was a different person, he may have kissed Harry for this, such was his relief.  
 _There was no need for desperate solutions, he had options!_

Instead he sent him a dark look.  
“What about the new prophesy then? When were you going to tell me about it, a moment before your voluntary death or facing me in a duel? Wasn't the first guillotine enough for us?”

Harry returned the look with interest.

“Who’s said anything about volunteering for it? And even if it comes to this, my death for Grindelwald’s, I'm counting on you to bring me back.” dry tone, a fast fierce smile.  
“...even if its finished between us at least I won’t end up standing alone when everything is said and done...”

It was a soft whisper not really meant for his ears.

Tom heard him though.  
“I need to think about it. Go to sleep.” he was abrupt... and he really needed it too... he needed to stay away from Harry to see if his mind and heart could agree on a common decision, he had options yes, but he needed to be able to live with his choice.

“I understand.” Harry faced him steadily, a bit too accepting maybe...

Tom wasn't satisfied though, he needed something more.  
“If you help me to keep things discreet until the battle I will ensure that the Potters and your friends won’t share your fate – if I decide to kill you.”

Harry’s expression was murderous. He didn't spell the words ‘fuck you!’ but they were definitely heard and heartfelt. He stormed to his room.

Tom was strangely content about this; there was no room for suicidal meekness. Still there were many, many, ways he could punish Harry, regardless if he ended killing him or not.

 _H_ _is partner was going to face everything_...

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS Edited at 11/26/2014  
> Please review to inspire me for more...


	15. External Factors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life catches up with our heroes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there I'm back and hopefully finally things will ease a bit so that I will take back my usual schedule, I hope. I trust that you will like this chapter although it's only plot and no heat, but if I attempted to include heat, it would have been at least as much and another month to the very least. Didn't think you would appreciated that
> 
> Anyway this chapter is devoted to my dearest friend J.F.C, who had his birthday few days ago. (He helped intensely with a specific letter too) All my wishes dear! It's also devoted to every wonderful person that took the time to review in all those months, and those that favoured and following me and my stories
> 
> You have all my love and a million of hugs.
> 
> Krysania

**Chapter Fifteen: External Factors**

**_ **Tom's pov (continuation)** _ **

There were days that Tom Marvolo Riddle literally hated himself: this day – __the third in a row_ _ _–_ was definitely one of those. He removed himself carefully from around Harry, hurrying with his frozen shower, beyond disgusted with himself and intending to cram as much studying he could before breakfast and later Auror camp. All the while attempting to stay on relatively calm parameters by not reflecting on Harry's heinous betrayal, but it was a nearly impossible task.

__The echo of his apparent weakness didn't help much with it anyway._ _

He had always prided himself on his control over any of his emotions, and thought that had dealt with them and the immediate problem admirably, when he managed to stay his hand and not instantly kill Harry, for all of his boiling hurt and rage. Deciding to delay any and all final decisions until the proper time, but his continuous agitated state these days showed that he couldn't truly handle even that.

All his efforts to come into a dispassionate verdict, based only on his own interests, had failed flat so far and he was coming to the conclusion that it was beyond impossible to view Harry with complete rationality no matter how much he tried it.

He couldn't get past his anger and hurt towards his partner, not even when he tried, couldn't even bear to look at him without wanting to hurt him, destroy him, reduce him to nothing but ashes where he was standing, and yet the moment he actually visualized doing it, that his control slipped even a little while they sparred, his whole soul seized in terror, rendering him incapable to act on deadly intent.

Worse, his nights were full of hunting visions in which he lets his hate loose until he broken him, but it was thanks to those exact dreams that he awoke feeling a sick wretch in the middle of the night and the only thing that could calm him down was Harry's steady breath and presence.

__He had started to doubt his control over his very own actions._ _

Hell, even into that horrible first night – in which he was too enraged to truly sleep – he still ended taking care of him and, more preposterously, found himself at said morning with his nose buried into Harry's hair |smelling of pine and clear sky| (having moved all the way there from the opposite side of their generous king-size bed) The only thing that saved his dignity was that he always awoke very early and his partner had no idea about it.

Even in the morning duel, he didn't start his rightful retribution until he was fully certain that Harry could handle it.  
... _ _He really didn't like what this pattern said about him__ _..._

Tom was very aware of the intense duality to his feelings –love and hate so deeply intertwined– that wasn't truly certain where the one started and the other ends, but the latest lunacy had literally immolated any balance between them and/or the equilibrium to his soul. He frankly feared that was losing the already tenuous links to any sanity he may had, he really couldn't afford to wait more for a decision…

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

__ **Minerva's pov** _ _

Minerva Helena McGonagall was getting progressively more troubled as the days passed. It wasn't due to something simple like a bad feeling, _although there was plenty of that too,_ but based on actual reality – __she had no idea that her life would get so complicated by setting foot into Potter Manor. –_ _ __But no, the complications had started a bit before that, at the Quidditch game, it was then that she made her two life-changing interconnected decisions:_ _

The first one: to swear herself to Harry, had come after a great deal of thought and yet the act by itself was spontaneous –  _ _she simply had to do it.__ She believed both in his ideas and integrity but also in Tom's ambitiousness and sheer ruthlessness to keep them alive, well, and definitely on track. More, her whole inner being and magic seemed to be compelling her. (Yet she knew there was no tampering whatsoever, of any form)

The second one: to give Alphard a chance, after all those years, was a bit hastier but just as heartfelt. Alphard was much more to her than the one person who could make her laugh, (no matter how rare was that by itself) or even one of her two true friends at her early Hogwarts years. (No girl liked her tomboyish attitude and passion for Quidditch, never mind that she was so intensely studious and dreamed so much more, for her life's path, than simply finding a husband.)

He had been a rock to her, when she lost her father, at her third year and remained so even after his fight with Leonard, up until Lord Charlus offered his family's protection to her and he became a stranger.

If Minerva had guessed the price at the time she would had preferred to end helped by the poverty stipend and earn her place to the school by her grades, but she was neither asked nor knew. The only thing she knew for sure was that in her fourth year she was in full crush mode and it looked like he had ditched her for Riddle's company.

It had hurt her and nor her brother nor Leonard were much help at the time, the later one ending slightly awkward with her for a couple of years. The only person that truly helped her, then, had been Professor Dumbledore; he had taken her under his wing, advancing her studies further than her peers' even up to instructing her into the animagus transformation.

But mostly, he had become a true kind mentor and confidante, who patiently heard all her troubles and advised her on how to proceed. (Incidentally never making a noteworthy dispute that it wasn't Tom's entire fault) It was really not strange that she had transferred her crush from Alphard to him.

But transfer or no transfer and remembered pain it was impossible to contain the leapt in her heart when Alphard had surprised her by dragging her into an empty classroom. More so, when he declared that had regretted hurting her with his entire heart and that he had been and even now was deeply in love with her –swearing it to his magic– and begged her to give him a small chance. It was impossible to say no to this.

But it was now that she had to face the consequences to those choices:

It wasn't like she regretted anything of course, not even dragging him to her room after the party and claiming him for her own. _(Never mind how difficult and awkward it had therefore proved been to steal a moment under Lady Potter's roof and eagle eyes_ __–_ _ __Tom and Harry were definitely the exception)__

But she was slowly becoming aware that her relationship with Alphard wasn't something that concerned merely the two of them but affected their entire group.  _ _\- She had been shocked and dismayed by this, she shouldn't have._ _

Minerva was a pureblood, she knew the rules. Even her brother, or Lady Dorea, could have arranged something for her if they were so inclined, __(she was very thankful they hadn't)_ _ never mind her chosen Lord. It didn't mattered that Harry was a halfblood and at normal circumstances shouldn't even know he had that right, it was his all the same.

Still, she wholeheartedly trusted Harry; he would never force her into anything, unless it was absolutely necessary, and then only to Alphard, which loved and supported her and would marry her in a flash, if only she agreed to it. Her own feelings were getting as much hold and had started to believe that she was long past her old crush and genuinely loved him just as much.

__No, the part that had horrified her so much had utterly nothing to do with love, or even her duty to her Lord._ _

Minerva wanted a family with Alphard too, just not right now. She wanted a career first and the chance to be her own woman before becoming a wife and mother, but she was coming to the conclusion that delaying her dreams a bit, or even managing them not entirely on her own, was hardly the worst that could happen to her.

Alphard and the others had told her that she was overreacting but it was impossible to not grew more and more alarmed after Tom and Harry's fight. She still remembered Tom's terrifying expression after that fight and the others had been just as scared, to the point of staying utterly silent and meek unless asked something.

She had been relieved as the others when this agony ended, Tom had sent Hermione to Harry the moment the revitalising potion was ready and had allowed them to retire for the night not long after. But, unlike them, she didn't believe that the problem was solved, or as Abraxas had put it: 'one of the same.'' It took until Christmas day for the others to start agreeing with her.

Minerva was beyond terrified with the consequences should the fight ends up a permanent one. For one that dream for magical equality among all will be probably forever diminished, if not destroyed beyond measure. Harry was Grey not Light but she doubted that he could pull it off by himself alone, never mind if Tom actively opposed him (assuming of course that even one of them managed to rise politically with their campaign cut in half.)

She was frankly incapable to really contemplate the catastrophic possibilities, like a full civil war for example, and so ended focusing on the more personal ones:

If Tom and Harry parted ways then there was definitely no future for Alphard and her too. Harry would definitely understand and would probably free her, even without her prompting, but she doubted that Tom would simply accept her as neutral, __(definitely not if she judged from that brand in Alphard's arm)_ _ and she couldn't see herself following Tom alone.

She respected (and feared) him deeply and acknowledged the pureblood way (Minerva wasn't a hypocrite and couldn't forget how much she had been helped by exactly that way of life) but she couldn't condone the excluding of all others, as Riddle did before Harry, it was well beyond her.

 __Well, maybe that kind of wonderment was academic; Alphard had once joked that if Tom ever ended without Harry he would undoubtedly_ _ __kill them all. She had laughed it then but, now that was thinking about it, she wasn't entirely sure that it had been a joke._ _

They sat for breakfast and Minerva, as the others, examined, more or less, discreetly Harry and Tom for signs of mending to their relationship.  
 _ _Could it be?__ She had to sigh in disappointment. __No.__

They acted normal, almost flirty, towards one another but Harry was too awake and chirpy for first thing in the morning and she had a very good idea about what kind of deadliness could be hidden behind Tom's too sweet smile.

Minerva and Alphard exchanged a worried look.  _..._ _ _Still they were trying to keep things together,_ _ _nothing was entirely lost yet...  
_ They joined hands under the table.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

__ **Harry's pov** _ _

Harry needed all his acting talent to not squirm under the very concerned glances he received from his friends at the breakfast table. Everyone, even the usually suave Abraxas, had taken to constantly trail his moves with their eyes, ever since the fight, and some of the braver Gryffindors __(namely Leonard)_ _ even tried it on Tom but a couple lethal glares had stopped it pretty fast, so he was the only one left to suffer.

Not that it mattered much in the long run; it was just an inconvenience. But the last thing he needed was to get distracted and pressured with questions, he had so many things to do and so little time left before the battle. Ever since the 24th morning he had known that the game was rigged. Tom may have said that needed to think about it but it had become obvious that he had already taken his decision.

He had had awoken quite gradually and relaxed that day even after all the trouble he initially had to fell asleep in the first place and with all those nightmares – __like if he had actually spent the night secure in Tom's arms._ _ But the very moment he focused his eyes that idea was instantly dismissed away. More than been alone, more than a cold bed, or a completely closed link, that white silken purse on his nightstand had told him everything he needed to know:

For Tom to return the amulets just like that, without demanding anything in return, meant that they were over, all ties between them cut and (thankfully with the people who mattered to him confirmedly out of their fight) all debts from his partner's side paid. – _He was dead to him._

Tom's behaviour that day confirmed these dreadful conclusions. He ignored him completely, unless in others' presence, not allowing him a single chance to talk about personal things, never mind to truly explain himself and his actions and that pattern continued ever since then, even at the nights.

Harry wasn't sure if he was more offended or hurt to be dosed with sweet dreams potion for Tom to be comfortable to share the same bed with him, but he wasn't going to show his vulnerability just now and complain; he ignored the humiliation and heartache (of every kind) and concentrated on his work.

He wasn't going to simply accept things either. He had his own ideas and plans to deal with the mess. While his rushing objective was and should be the battle with Grindelwald and the safety of his dear ones, that didn't meant he had given up on Tom, much less on their common work and life, (or life in general) he still hoped to get through this.

Tom may currently hate his guts but it certainly didn't obliterate the rest of his feelings, Harry could see it every time they sparred. He wanted to either kill him or fuck him, __(sometimes he couldn't even discern which one)_ _ but it was exactly that reaction that was giving him an edge to deal with this:

He remembered clearly how far Voldemort had gone to get him and knew that Tom's emotional pendulum could reach just as far on the other side and he was preparing accordingly. If it just happened to disappear after dealing with Grindelwald Tom would search the ends of the earth to find him, whether to kill him or something else that was yet to be seen and totally irrelevant.

He needed only to outwait Tom's anger (which granted could take a long time) but in the end they would either patch things between them or came to an end. If he still wanted to kill him, he was going to deal with this too...(He still couldn't bear to hurt Tom but, assuming he found the information he needed in time, it was definitely not going to come to this)

...Harry just needed to survive the battle first...

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Hermione's eyes were still insisting to him worryingly, dragging him out of his musings, Harry barely managed a weak smile, instead of a curse.  
 _ _God she was the worst!__ Ever since that hellish Christmas diner she hadn't left him alone even a moment, pressuring him to talk and not even Zev could hold her back.– __Like if she believed that since she had urged Tom towards him then the whole mess was her personal responsibility__ _..._

Thankfully he had exactly the necessary thing to set both of them and himself back on the right direction.  
“Hey Herm how does your project going, any progress?”

Hermione could be a professional too, her expression and posture sharpened immediately, like if as standing at attention.

“I believe that I'm close to finish with the experimental work; the auditory communication spell can link at least three to five confirmed objects, with extreme clarity I might add, and works at the required distance and possible even warding. Aurors Longbottom and Weasley kindly helped in the experimentation by Portkeying in Leipzig and visiting into Hogwarts' grounds.”

Harry's smile was much easier and real this time, and sent a grateful look at Leonard too. Auror Bones had sanctioned it but his grandfather's approach to his graduated friends had cut a great deal of red tape, making it possible for the spell to be used immediately.  
“Excellent, Mione! You are amazing!” Herm faintly blushed to his praise but there was still worry to her eyes and she exchanged a look with Zevi.

“Thank you but it's still far from fully completed. While I initially considered it ready for you're testing in parseltongue, as it worked perfectly for Leonard and his friends, a second, private, line of testing, with me and Zevi failed completely. I really don't understand it, the arithmetical equations are perfect.” she harshly bites her bottom lip, clearly hating to disappoint him.

Zev put a comforting arm around her shoulders and nodded just as empathetically.  
“The potion too.” he added. Some of the stiffness left Hermione's body and she continued with her rant.

“And yet for some reason it can't stick to us for more than five minutes.” she sounded beyond frustrated with this but far from unaware of the probable explanations. Still, she remained silent due to the mixed company.

Harry was far from ignorant too. Even if he couldn't already guess by himself the satisfied glint on Tom's eyes and that small smile gracing his lips would had tipped him at once. __Bastard!_ _

Unfortunately his friend didn't leave it only at that small revenge...Tom's lips curved even more, into that, overly charming, artificial smile.  
“No need to be fretful Hermione, I'll help you later today and we'll be ready in no time.” he said in a friendly, natural tone and Hermione had no choice but agree to this.

It still wasn't the end though; Tom regarded him coyly from under his lashes.  
“No need to bother yourself with this Harry, I will take care of everything.”  
Harry's blood boiled.

Tom not only played with their nerves, using the mark to block the spell, as he had been pissed with them for sharing it with the Aurors in the first place, but he had the damn gall to throw him out from his very own project, __his baby!_ _

But before he could explode and demand an explanation for this – _probably unwise at this timeframe_ – he became aware of something else:  
All the while his attention had been taken with Hermione and Tom Minerva had gotten a letter and was currently reading it, grey and trembling like a leaf, Alphard and Leonard reading, just as intently, behind her shoulders.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

__ **Minerva's pov** _ _

Minerva honestly adored her older brother but that didn't change the fact he could irritate her to madness with his demands and over-protectiveness. Still he had practically raised her, more a father to her than a brother, and, for all his strictness, never tried to stifle her dreams for anything, so she could tolerate a lot.

However she couldn't help a feeling of apprehension as she saw a new letter appearing beside her cup. __(wasn't sure she agreed with the house's policy of the elves dealing exclusively with the owls either)_ _ It wasn't much of a surprise of course; they were always keeping regular contact, even when he was busy with a case. The difference this time was that Minerva had taken the plunge and informed Fergus that she was seeing someone seriously.

She had refrained from mentioning it was Alphard though, that needed to be said face to face. Her brother never had much sympathy for him, after dropping her friendship, and had opposed Lord Black and his underhanded ways too many times on court to not personally dislike him and the whole family on principle, (Minerva could sympathise to a point, she really disliked Walburga) this needed careful handling, very careful.

Still her hands trembled a bit even as she opened the letter; Fergus' opinion meant the world to her and she may haven't disclosed the name of her intended but she had been quite frank with her feelings. She took a deep breath and she was ready:

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

__**Minerva,** _ _

__**I've never expected that I would end up writing something like this to you, but your current actions have forced me to do so, little sister. I'm deeply disappointed with you. I could understand or even expect something like this at your teenage years, but definitely not right now.** _ _

__**I mean, you worked so hard for many years to get that Transfiguration Apprenticeship and yet you just threw it away for a mere whim. This is not the Minnie I knew, you were never irresponsible.** _ _

__**The most deplorable part is that it never even occurred to you that you should have informed me of your recent doings. Imagine my surprise when I received such news from Professor Dumbledore himself. Why Minnie? Why did you have to fall into such a dark crowd? Don't you understand that you are not only putting at risk your future, but mine as well if you continue to befriend them? I could have understood if you had been dazzled by Mr. Evans, you owe him a life-debt after all; and no matter how much I have researched him after what happened, or how much he alarms the good professor, nothing truly untoward can be pinned on him.** _ _

__**But no, it wasn't Evans the one you exposed yourself with, but that little snake from the Black family. How could you do this to me, to you as well? Hadn't he hurt you once before? Are you in such a hurry for a repeat? I can't believe that you are so naive to believe his lies again, Minnie. He probably only wants to add you in his list of girls, but even in the miracle that he is honest with his intentions his father will never approve of such a relationship.**__ __**Cepheous Black is a hateful man, known for his strong support of the Dark side and his pastime on indebting muggleborns, taking everything they have, and forcing them back into the muggle world. He would never accept you as a bride for his Heir, a girl of no equal means and one that comes from a Light family.** _ _

__**I suppose that it was my mistake for not taking appropriate care of you. I was counting on the contract with the Potters for your settling and later, after that failed, on your devotion to your work and childhood crush to the good professor to keep you away from such blunders while I worked into making you a dowry for the right time, obviously it wasn't enough. Look sister I'm not saying that you don't have a right to live your life as a woman and find someone to create a family with, but it's my right as your brother and Head of House to prevent you from erring and you are tottering way close into destroying our family name. It's not only a matter of how far you dishonoured yourself, I'd rather don't know at all about that matter, but as I've already heard faint rumours of your activities with Mr. Evans and Mr. Black there is a possibility that your reputation is already stained beyond measure and not even the Uirginitatis Potion is truly going to help you recover it.** _ _

__**Still, not everything is lost yet. Professor Dumbledore wanted to dismiss you outright as he believes that you're covering their crimes, (like taking prisoner the Undersecretary's son for blackmail. Poppycock! The good professor maybe took this a bit too far) but I managed to convince him into giving you another chance. Come home Minerva, leave your inappropriate beau behind and accept the professor's offer, its more than generous from his part. You always wanted to teach after all and you can regroup from rumours but not a shameful dismissal. The end of a romance can be traumatic I know, but it won't be the end of the world for you that I promise...You will never end a spinster; the scandal will blow over soon and you will be among your people. Who knows, you may even get unexpected offers, professor Dumbledore had been way too furious now that I'm thinking about it... Please, little sister, come home, I really don't want to force you as the Head of House.** _ _

__**Your concerned brother  
**__

__**Fergus Ignatius McGonagall** _ _

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Nothing could have prepared her for this, Minerva was forced to reread twice after the first time; she really couldn't believe in her eyes.

As comprehension set, so did sadness. Anger wasn't far behind and it steeled her to leave without bursting into tears.  
“Excuse me.” her voice was calm, as she rose from the table, and her gait measured, although she really didn't know where she was going.

Finally her steps led her to the library and she collapsed into an armchair, it was then that the tears came – hot angry tears full of anguish and mute complain – but she closed her eyes tightly, to hold them and her lips pressed firmly together, not wanting to give into her misery and scream, she was stronger than that.

She couldn't believe that Fergus was doing that to her, treating her as if she were a baby, incapable to make her own decisions, but, while she itched to find him and give him a piece of her mind, emotions other than anger were the ones that took dominance to her mind.

It was something more than his implied callousness and definitely his not so implied condescension that hurt her. Minerva was used to fight against that behaviour, although never before versus her brother, but all the insults of the world weren't compared to the real message.  
She was forced to choose.

She had, probably foolishly, believed that she would have the time to talk with him, make him see her point, understood. Fergus was usually fair-minded it shouldn't have been that impossible, but she had disregarded how deeply Light oriented he was and more importantly how much respect he held for Professor Dumbledore, both as political mentor and sponsor to his career.

Unless she pretty much complied with this her brother was going to stop regarding her as a sister.  
– __Oh dear God she didn't want to lose him!  
_ _ _But she didn't want to lose Alphard or even her new friends either_...

Moreover she definitely didn't understand professor Dumbledore's place regarding the whole mess. Her termination as his apprentice had been honourable for all that it had been devastating but this was anything but, using those underhand tactics he so detested on the Slytherins and hurting her right to the heart.

Minerva had doubted him before and that had led her right here but this was getting so much further than doubt, he was nothing like she believed him to be and neither was her brother. The realization that her judgement was so compromised jarred her to her core.

 __What else had she misjudged regarding her dear ones?  
_ _ It was exactly that thought, and the despair and fear which accompanied it, that finally freed a river of tears.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

But then, as she was certain that she was losing herself, she felt two comforting hands resting to her shoulders.

“Its all right babe, everything it's going to be alright.”

Minerva raised her face almost blindly and met Alphard's eyes, warm and so full of concern that every doubt she had of this was instantly appeased. – __Whatever else may be wrong he truly loved her._ _ She buried her face to his chest.

They stayed silently that way for some restful moments but a small cough forced her to leave her protective nest. She was furious and embarrassed but –judging by his beet red face– Leonard looked just as uncomfortable, if not worse so, and very determined.

“I'm really sorry for interrupting you at this moment but I really couldn't wait outside, not after reading,” a deep breath and he rushed everything out. “Your brother's behaviour is narrow-minded, selfish and inexcusable; I didn't expect it from him. But you shouldn't allow him to hurt you like that, Min, nor to dictate your life. You are neither alone nor need him.” another breath. “We have already taken about this, you have been my sister in everything but name for years, should he dare takes that reprehensible step, or even without, my house is yours.”

“Leo...” she tried to speak.

Minerva wanted to cry again but for a very dissimilar reason, Alphard took it differently and held her even more protectively.  
“Hold it right there Leonard, I think you've taken this too fast, Min's brother was positively unpleasant but I can understand him to a point, I'm certain that he will reconcile after our marriage.”

Leonard looked startled and Minerva's head was swimming.  
“Alphard.” she tried again.

It was Alphard's time to look anxious.  
“It's alright, babe, I understand, you have been pretty clear to me. We will marry when the time is right to us and no later or sooner irregardless the pressure.”

Leonard justified his self proclaimed role as her little brother by snickering.  
“I think she means how on earth you became so serious and mature Alph.”

Alphard looked almost affronted.  
“I can be serious if need to be.” he declared haughtily but there was a strange smile, not entirely of humour, to his lips and he turned to her with shadowed eyes.

“I also know what its like to have an unpleasant sibling; I want to bash Walburga's head pretty much every time she opens her mouth but she is my sister, I love her too, I understand.” he sent another glare at Leonard for daring to snort.  
Leonard glared back.

Minerva tried and succeeded to not laugh with their antics – __if she couldn't control herself and her two mental five year olds how she could ever control a class..._ _ (She still hoped)

“Boys?” instant attention, “I appreciate your attempts to cheer me up but we really must face things as they are.” she had no intention whatsoever to return home with her tail to her legs but she realised with a shudder that she didn't have a wide area of choices.

Her boys frowned.  
“What do you mean by that? We joked around but not regarding you.” Leonard was definitely not happy with her.

“I will marry you any day -any time- just say the word.” Alphard confirmed, meaning it too. Minerva bit her lips; the last thing she wanted was to hurt them.

“I know. The problem is that none of you have the last word on the matter.” she smiled at Alphard, trying to make him understand.“My brother is entirely right on one thing at least, there is no way you had the time to inform your father and ask for his acceptance, you definitely can't just spring it to him as a fait accomplice.”

Alphard's smile was back to its usual puckish brilliance ...

“Says who my sweet love? I have promised to keep it for now but come September I will have a job at Hogwarts as flying coach. I will make more than enough to support both of us, even if your dismissal stands, and sooner or later you will have your position back. If my father doesn't like it he can go hang.” ... but there was a steely edge to his voice.

Leonard nodded to all these, smiling smugly, and she came to the irritating conclusion that he knew from before, but she left it alone for now.  
 __It was a very good thing that Alphard was again confiding on him._ _

Minerva definitely liked that decisively edge to her lover and she found her remaining resistance melting away, but there was still a last, not so easily dismissive, piece.  
“What about Tom, you are quite heavily sworn to him, don't you need his approval?” __which she doubted that he was going to give at this point.__

Leonard made a weird face but didn't dare to say a single word. However Alphard surprised her as he didn't falter even with this.  
“But he has already given it, if tacitly, when he approved of Leonard's plan even if it was deserted in the end.”

She sent him a look. __That was very different__ _.  
_ He met her gaze evenly.

“If he stays so angry with Harry that this is going to set him off then we are dead anyway and I want to have you as my wife now that I still have the chance.” another rakish grin, “But if you are not comfortable with the risk I will understand it if you wish to be far, far away.”

Minerva couldn't believe her ears.

 __Her calculating Slytherin wanted to out-Gryffindor her!_ _ _Still, she knew Alphard, if he believed it a true danger he wouldn't have opened his mouth, not that it mattered how dangerous it was at the end of things._

“Alright, you are on, I will marry you.” she said just as decisively and he beamed.

They weren't given the chance to kiss though, Leonard clapped enthusiastically.  
“Brilliant! You are going to stay here of course –when not in the castle– for however long you need to, or whenever you want to.”

This Minerva couldn't accept.  
“Thank you Leonard but no. I have weighted your family too much already these years, and your mother has enough to her head, I can't accept more.” she regarded him calmly. “I have enough on the bank that we'll be alright until September.”

She fervently hoped that Alphard wasn't going to disagree with her, used as he was to more lavish accommodations, and her fiancé __(Fiancé what a strange, beautiful word!)_ _ didn't disappoint her:

“Minnie is right; we will be more than alright. I too have money on my trust account that I'm not idiot enough to give back. It is quite generous; we can last for many years with careful handling if needs to be. Not to mention that I want my wife all to myself if you gets me.” he winked.

Minerva blushed, Leonard scowled.  
“I get you fine and I don't mind, its Minerva's reaction that I don't like.” he crossed his arms, glaring.

“There is no charity, or debt, between us, there never was. Nor any expectations that you failed, no matter what your prat brother wrote.” she couldn't help but flinch and he noticed it.“I meant it Min; my parents didn't help you expecting a bride, but because you are my friend, so no strings attached.”

Minerva tried and failed to hold back a sharp retort.  
“It still sounds like charity to me.”

Leonard looked like he had started getting angry himself.  
“No, your brother gave you to House Potter it was – _ _if anything__ _ _–_ _ our duty to take care of you.” Alphard nodded at this too.

Minerva wanted to scream. __Didn't they understand that this just worsened her sense of obligation instead of lessening it?_ _

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

__ **Harry's pov** _ _

Harry was shocked speechless as Minerva fled the dining room, no matter in how a dignified way she did so. Leonard and Alphard exchanged a look, got up, and followed her. The tension mounted even more at this but no one was crass enough to break the silence, not even the seven years old.

Dorea sipped a bit of her coffee and took the discarded letter, reading it calmly between more sips, but even after it was deserted she remained locked in deep contemplation. She didn't let any emotions or thoughts to show though; too much of a Slytherin for that, but the very fact that she needed to was very worrying by itself.

However, that was making it even more unbecoming and intrusive for them to ask.

Neither Dorea volunteered any information in the end, just a crispy:  
“Excuse me.” and a barely softer, “Annette, stay here.” as she left. Nevertheless she, quite conveniently, left the letter at the table.

It was admittedly just a circumspect invitation but, even with Dorea's sanctioning, Harry wasn't that comfortable with breaching Minerva's privacy. Tom, on the other hand, didn't have that kind of sensitivities and grabbed it at the mere moment it took Harry to make up his mind. __Not that he approved._ _

“Hey!” he protested – even if just as a honour token.

Tom barely graced him with a raised eyebrow, diving instantly to the letter. He read it rapidly and then all but shoved it into Harry's hands.  
“Read.” he ordered, radiating such a laced tension that Harry decided to leave the fight for afterwards, it was so disconnecting.

The letter by itself was much worse than he expected and made even less sense too. It set Harry's blood to boil with anger and indignation, to the point of making him consider even Cruciatus, but thankfully only for a moment, and he managed to force himself to calm down, __somewhat,_ _ and concentrate on tamer curses for a definite later deal with Minerva's brother.

“What the hell is that?” he asked sheathing, throwing the letter away. – _No, more than sheathing, feeling sullied._

Weirdly, Tom sent him an exultant smile.  
 **“Dumbledore's move – Finally.”** his voice was full of satisfaction but he still had the presence of mind to reply on parseltongue, due to the presence of small curious ears.

_Weirdly still, he pocketed the discarded letter like if it was something very valuable to him_

Harry could see it too, after a couple deep breaths and a moment of forced clear thinking.  
 **“I don't get why you are so happy about it?”** he grumbled.

Tom sent him a look, but that was it. He seemed to have totally forgotten his anger and appeared the closer to enthusiastic that Harry had ever seen him.

 **“ **Think, darling,”**** he whispered feverishly, taking his hands, **“** ** **we didn't act in any direct way against him and yet we already got him cornered.”****

Harry wouldn't get that far and definitely didn't like the timing.  
 **“** ** **Even if you are right, it's the cornered ones that are the most dangerous.”** ** he pointed out, ignoring the other's hands.

Even that wasn't enough to curb Tom's elation.

 **“ **Maybe so, but cornered people make mistakes,”**** he left him go, but only to be able to accompany his words with intense gestures.  ** **“Dumbledore definitely did.”**** a sly look, ** **“or did you miss Silveror's McGonagall disrespect, or his disappointment that his sister didn't managed to snatch you for a husband?”****

Harry couldn't help an angry scowl; __he didn't even want to think about the later part._ _  
**“** ** **It could be irrelevant.”** ** he protested.

Tom sent him a superior smirk.  
 **“** ** **On the contrary, darling, it's an actual proof that the good Silveror has his very own agenda.”** ** his eyes glinted with calculations on how he could use such a thing.

Harry sighed inwardly.  
 **“** ** **It could be a trap for all you know.”** ** the reply was instinctual.

Immediately, he bites his lips, __he definitely shouldn't have said that.  
If he got Minerva's brother killed he would never forgive himself. _ _

Nothing changed on Tom's expression.  
 **“** ** **I'm well aware of that fact.”** ** he got up. **“** ****Now, let's go.”** ** he grabbed Harry's right hand and started dragging him. (using Harry's mark for insurance)

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

  _ _ **Minerva's pov**__

 _Minerva crossed her arms, trying to contain her own rage inside, but a soft voice intercepted her mental rand._ _  
_“Peace child, my son definitely meant no harm.”

Minerva's head turned sharply at the door and she nearly groaned. It was one thing to talk with Leonard and Alphard and quite another to be overheard by her stern benefactress. Leonard may say what he wants, but while Lady Dorea had always been unfailingly gracious to her Minerva had always known that was under strict observation and found lacking, at the very least, to some extent.

It had kept her on alert.  
“Lady Potter.” she acknowledged faintly as she got up, reconstructing her inner shields.

Lady Dorea slid into the room.  
“I'm really happy for you and Alphard, Minerva. Congratulations.”

 __She couldn't help but wonder if the Lady was completely honest._ _ __  
__ “Thank you Lady Dorea.” her own voice betrayed nothing and she avoided her gaze the moment it was polite to do so.

“Minerva, child, look at me.” startled at the gentleness from the other woman's voice she did. “My son is right, there was no charity. This was merely the most honourable way for things to be done, but the engagement could have been a very real one if only you two developed that kind of feelings for each other, so he was also wrong.” a pregnant pause.

“If I had any reservations, or I'm more satisfied with the way things concluded for all concerned, that's only due to a personal matter and not from something you did wrong.” her voice was haughty but there was something strangely vulnerable, even apologising, to her stance.

Leonard hurried to get his mother out of the tight spot.  
“Min, I'm sterile.” he blunted out, “I have known since that accident in Quidditch at second year.” another breath fallowed by a self-mocking smile. “I'm also apparently too Light to be able to conduct a blood adoption.”

Alphard, unexpectedly, took this calmly and totally mature, he sent a sympathetic glance and a nod that they will talk later and that was it.

But Minerva, for once, really wasn't. Her surprised gasp was totally heartfelt and she honestly didn't knew at all what to do. She wanted to hug Leonard but it could only embarrass him worse. – _Definitely didn't expect this._

“Leonard I'm s…” she tried.

“Don't.” his voice was soft but an order, he didn't even let her finish and that was the only hint of how much it bothered him. He offered an 80% genuine looking smile. “I'm alright, Min, I've dealt with it a long time ago and it doesn't bothers me. Annette's kids are going to be my heirs and if Meli wants kids we'll deal with it too.”

Minerva couldn't help but admire her friend, both for his stoicism and acting talent. He was the farthest thing from a Slytherin, perpetually open as he was with his emotions, and yet none of the big things were ever leaked outside.  
– _He wasn't that different from Harry._

 __It still stung a bit that she had been again excluded but she understood too.  
_ _ “I didn't know that Melissa was Grey!” she commented both to light up things and maybe satisfy something of her limitless curiosity.

It was a mistake though, she realised it almost before Leonard flushed by her remark and she blushed too, as she recalled what – __did_ _ __–_ _ _she_ know about Melissa Longbottom: The girl wasn't all that grey to be able to handle a blood adoption for certain but the Longbottoms were the only other family holding directly from Godric Gryffindor. More, her mother, Callidora, was a Black, and distantly related to Lady Potter. A child of hers was going to be almost as good as a Potter.

_No wonder why the Lady preferred her.  
_

Leonard guessed some of her thoughts and glared.  
“I really like Meli; I wouldn't be engaged to her if it wasn't the case.”

Minerva couldn't help a smile. – _This was her friend, putting his family_ __above everything but never without using his heart!_ _ _  
_“I know.”

Alphard looked a bit too interested by the byplay and she squeezed his hand in reassurance... _and he was supposedly such a womaniser!_

Lady Dorea sent her a teasing look for this, making her flush and wonder again if the Lady was a Legimens.  
“I hope that you are feeling better now child.” her tone was undoubtedly warm and approving.

Minerva, for once, took it at face value.  
“Thank you Lady Dorea. Sorry for putting my nose to the family secrets.”

Dorea made an imperious dismissive gesture.  
“Nonsense Minerva dear, it was concerning you, and you have proven yourself a member of this family ten times over.” she took a light contemplative tone.

“Maybe I should write to that brother of yours and explain a few things, it looks like he'd forgotten the contract. You are entirely under our House's protection and he has absolutely no right to you, well except for courtesy's sake. What do you think dear?”

Minerva was horrified. – _O_ _n one part it was heartening that even Lady Potter was ready to go such lengths for her, but on the other Fergus was fairly hotheaded and there was no predicament on where it could lead.  
_ “Oh please no, Lady Dorea. I will handle Fergus myself. If he believes himself insulted to his honour he may even go as far as to demand a duel.”

Alphard smiled cruelly.  
“Let him ask, it's an ancient custom to duel for a bride's hand, I find it fitting.” he sent her a softer look.“Don't worry love, I can protect myself and won't hurt him too much.”

Minerva wasn't impressed.  
“What if he goes against Leonard instead? He could use the contrast and declare that House Potter didn't guard my honour as it should.” she blushed horribly, as she spoke, but it needed to be said, no matter how it sickened her by the mere idea.

Strangely Lady Dorea didn't look all that concerned and Alphard muttered something about: “melting his inwards if he tried.”

Leonard sent her a baleful glare.  
“Thanks Min, a lot.”

Minerva glared back while she tried to find the words to explain.  
“Leonard I…”

The glare wasn't dropped.

“Save it, I know you care but I'm not that weak anymore. Your brother tops me by a decade and he's good, but I learned a lot the last days in Auror camp and sparring with the guys, I will be ok.”

Alphard suddenly had a very sly expression.  
“Why on earth should you face him, weren't a talk few days ago that you aren't truly the Head of the House?”

Leonard got at once.  
“Harry won't take the ring but it doesn't change facts, he is currently the Head of the House.” a thoughtful pause.  
“Hey you are brilliant!”

Alphard bowed teasingly.  
“I'm trying.”

 __Well, that explained Lady Potter's calm_ _ _._

But Minerva was ready to curse them both.  
“Are you two hearing yourselves? I'm angry with my brother but not that much, Harry will slaughter him.”

Alphard tried to calm her.  
“Came now Minnie, Harry is not that bloodthirsty, a few humiliating curses here and there and that will be all.”

Minerva felt like a traitor but she said it.  
“Only if he is at his right mind…”

Leonard put a comforting hand to her shoulder.  
“There is no need for things to go anywhere near a duel; I've read the letter too…Fergus sounded truly impressed by Harry's reputation, maybe that will be enough to deter him…I don't care what he says I will make the announcement right after the battle, I'm sure that my father will agree.”

“Announcement what announcement?” a very soft voice interrupted them from the door.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

  _ _ **Harry's pov**__

Harry complied with leaving the room but wasn't exactly happy about it.  
 **“** ** **Where on earth are we going?”** **

Tom sent him a look that indicated he was an idiot.

**“ **To the library of course, I trust Lady Potter to stop them from doing something foolish but it will be hardly enough to support our interests. Fergus McGonagall needs to be here post haste.”****

Harry stopped in his tracks making Tom stubble and glare daggers but he held his ground.  
 **“** ** **Why would we need a Silveror, don't we have enough on our plate already?”** **

Tom rolled his eyes.

**“ **Exactly because of this, not that we'll won't need him on many other things too, in the long run, but the letter proves that Dumbledore started a actual smear campaign to discredit us. An actual legal representative to the Ministry will neutralise it, never mind help us pass as far less dangerous and more law abiding than we are.”****

He was right on the actual points, but Harry couldn't help a laugh.  
 **“** ** **And you chose Dumbledore's lawyer for that?”** **

__Tom definitely deserved that red shirt in all its connotations!_ _ __**–** _ _ __Not that he had found the right circumstances to give it to him._ _  
His laughter died in a sad note.

Tom sent him an imperious look, like he was above such things, but his lips tightened imperceptibly. Still, his voice didn't change timbre.  
 **“** ** **Who better? There won't be found a finer cover and it could confuse Dumbledore to no end.”** **

__Talk about high stakes!_ _

Harry didn't know if he was getting more impressed or irritated with the other's boldness, his mind flashing uneasily to the last war and Dumbledore's tactics, and decided to cut the chase.

 **“ **Why waste him on just that then?”**** he asked with complete nonchalance.  **“** ** **We can also feed him with the information of our choosing and let Dumbledore think that he has a direct leak to us.”**** he wasn't entirely sarcastic though.

__He had been furious with Tom at using Minerva to that role but he had to admit that the thought of using her git of a brother didn't make him feel guilty to the least._ _

Tom sent him a small approving smile, obviously more than pleased with him.  
 **“** ** **Excellent suggestion, sweetheart!”** **

Harry wasn't all that comfortable with the warm tingles to his stomach, due to that smile, but was getting even less so with the stark realisation of what he had been idiotic enough to start.  
 **“ **It's too risky.”**** he back-pedalled.

Tom sent him an evaluating look.  
 **“ **Come now Harry, the danger to us is far lesser than the benefits, as you are fully aware, else you wouldn't have offered in the first place.”**** he tried to sweet-talk him.

Harry bit his lips, weighing things.  
 **“** ** **I wasn't exactly thinking.”** ** he admitted.

 __Tom was right though, Fergus McGonagall was going to be the perfect mouthpiece for them_ _ _..._ __'If he won't share anything and everything he could find for us first!'  
_ _ The last thought was involuntary, Harry had no intention to share it, but it happened. He blanched.

 **Tom's lips parted in an acutely cruel smile.  
** ****“He will face the natural consequences in such a case** ** ****.** ** ****”** ** his voice was lilting and deceptively innocent for all its finality.

Harry gritted his teeth until he thought that he could break them. – _He had no idea what it scared him more, his partner's emerging reckless streak, or the risk to the Silveror's life.  
_ **“** ** **Tom, please!?”** ** the plea emerged right from his very heart.

Unfortunately it didn't have the result that he was hoping for. The last remains of warmth left Tom's face; his eyes became two pieces of bruise coloured ice.

 **“ **I would be careful with your pleas right now, darling, because they have the exact opposite effect to me.”**** he said in the same musical voice, laced with cold humour.

 __He definitely hadn't forgotten his anger or his reasons for it.  
_ _ But in the next moment even that had been smoothed out, like it had never been there, he smiled.

**“ **But that doesn't mean that the estimated Silveror is written off for death. We can't trust him, of course, maybe never will, but we'll only give him the exact information we want shared, not a grain more. So, you see, he's quite safe, even if he fancies himself a double agent.”****

To Harry that smile felt like the closing of heavy doors to his face, throwing him completely out of Tom's psyche.  
 **“** ** **Do I have your word?”** ** he tried to find even a scrap of relief to the other's acquiescence, but it felt such a hollow victory.

Tom sent him an ironic smirk, for all that he seemed ready to comply in a more or less indifferent way, but suddenly their attention got drawn into something else.

They hadn't made it all the way to their destination yet, nevertheless Minerva's defeated, dry, voice was distinctive enough to reach them.  
“Only if he is at his right mind…”

Harry stopped, feeling like he had been doused with freezing water, knowing instinctually that it was referring to him and hoping, even as he tried to deny it, that he had heard wrong, but Leonard's answer shattered the illusion.

He honestly wished that he was anywhere but here and turned to leave, but once again Tom didn't share his mood. Face like a storm, his partner grabbed him again and sauntered inside, all the while intoning in his softest voice:

“Announcement what announcement?”

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Everyone paled with their entrance, even Lady Dorea, but Leonard, although shaken, straightened his body.  
“That Harry is a Potter, of course.” he said it like it was the simplest thing.

Harry was speechless for a moment but Tom didn't even look surprised by this.  
“I don't see anything wrong with this proposal.” he responded indifferently but Harry noticed the tug of malicious humour to his lips.

He barely held back an expletive. However, knowing that there was nothing he could currently do with his partner's particular mood, focused entirely on Leonard.

“No.” he was going to avoid setting them at a direct confrontation with Dumbledore to his last breath.  
“Look, its not that I don't appreciate it but it's too dangerous for now.”

Leonard nodded attentively but gifted him with a sunny smile.  
“I know; that's why I'm waiting for after the battle.”

An aggravating sigh found its way out from Harry's chest; he had a feeling that this was going to turn into a full out fight.  
Still, he tried to put it mildly once more.  
“I doubt it will be much safer after then either.”

His friends started looking very uncomfortable with the arriving confrontation but the only other Potter by blood stiffened.  
“So, when do you plan for public disclosure?” Leonard's voice was calm but something in his stance reminded him of Ron right before a fight.

Harry didn't want a fight but the least he owed to Leonard was honesty. He decided to leave nothing to doubt.  
“Never.- I believe that it will be best for the family and me if our connection remains forever obscured to the public eye.”

He expected anger –and there was that too– but it was also so much worse, his grandfather looked utterly shocked and hurt by this.  
“So you don't think that we are good enough to be your family.” his voice was bitter.

Harry sucked his breath; he couldn't believe that Leonard even thought that, never mind asked.  
“NO.” his own voice was hoarse. “You three treated me as true family, much better than mi…” he stopped mid-word and corrected,  
“than I ever hoped for and I need you all safe.” he ignored the welling of amusement he started sensing from his partner.

Leonard's eyes widened at his misspoke and the word “Who?” left his mouth. Harry didn't need much effort to guess the rest:  
' _Who was the Potter that has mistreated you?'_

However, with terrible restrain, for him, his grandfather let it go and asked the next thing popping into his mind.  
“So it's a matter of courage?”

Harry scolded.  
“Of course not, but you have and a little kid's safety to think about.” - __surely, that was going to work._ _

Leonard scolded right back.  
“That one was below the belt; Annette is far safer than other children, with so many skilled wizards to the house, or will any of you leave her unprotected to danger?”

Harry was at a loss with this reaction but stubbornly kept on insisting.  
“It's still dangerous.”

Dorea chose to interfere then.  
“I know dear, but the time we did what was safer instead of right is in the past.” her eyes passed from him to Tom alight with apology and Harry instantly knew that her son had informed her that they knew.

Tom stiffened beside him but didn't dignify this with an answer.

Harry swore inside and decided to change tactics.  
“You told me that you consider me Head of the House, don't my wishes count at all?” even to this he wasn't comfortable to order directly.

Leonard smirked.  
“Of course they do, but as you refused the ring they don't weigh all that much. We Potters stand together no matter what.” it was impossible for Harry to miss the double meaning, Dorea nodded at this too.

 __...And if he accepted the ring it was_ _ __still_ _ __going to become public!_ _ He honestly started to panic.

Something attempting to pass for a dry cough sounded from Tom due to this while a:  
 __'Looks like you got a taste from your own medicine, darling.'_ _ was practically sing-sung into his mind.

The teasing cleared Harry's head, making him able to deal with this. There was only one graceful way for him to retread, really.  
“We are going to talk about this later.” - __he was going to postpone this talk (the whole thing in general) for as far as he could_ _ _..._

The Potters seemed ready to disagree and Tom took pity on him. - __That or, more probable, was thoroughly bored_ _ _..._

“Amusing as this was, we've come here for a different matter.” his partner abruptly changed the subtext. With all eyes to him he brought out the letter and offered it to Minerva in a graceful move.“You forgot this on the table.” he told her lightly.

Minerva paled even more and her “thank you” as she took it was full of discomfort.

Harry's heart got to her and decided to lead the talk to make it easier for Minerva.  
“Actually, I remembered that your brother is a Silveror and I wanted to ask you something.”

Minerva's look of acute disquiet turned to puzzlement and a bit of gratefulness that he didn't just blurt out her family problems.  
“I'm not sure that I will be able to help you but go ahead.” she finally told him.

Harry smiled.  
“As you know there was a bit of trouble at the Ministry at the last days, we are not going to step back now, but we'll probably need legal support to not end up in Azkaban.”

Minerva's bewilderment turned to true incomprehension.  
“And you want my brother's assistance?” she sounded shocked.

Harry's smile widened.  
“Why yes, you told me he is the best, no?”

Tom took it from there.  
“Actually it depends upon him. Will he be able to hold the clause of secrecy first of all?”

Minerva looked offended with the otherwise suggestion.  
“Of course he will.” she crossed her arms, “Even if he doesn't take your case he will either accept an obliviation, take an oath of non disclosure, or both. That's the way he works.” a pause.“But he will never reveal the secrets of other clients or former ones either.” she warned.

Tom looked indifferent with the last part.  
“Excellent! He seems the perfect man for our needs. Arrange a meeting for the soonest possible.” he smiled like the matter was closed.

Minerva seemed to be considering at how to best answer.  
“There is a slight problem with that. Fergus is very Light oriented, I doubt that he will accept your case. Furthermore, our relationship is currently strained, going for breaking, so I doubt that I will be able to persuade him.” she didn't add a 'my Lord' but it was somehow heard.

Alphard stood beside her in silent support.

Harry felt horrible, he had no idea that she would choose to cut ties at once, it didn't fit with the great affection he knew she held for her brother.  
“It can't be that bad, I'm sure that everything will turn out okay with a bit of talk.” he knew he sounded horrible, but he believed it on the most part and was going to make it sure too.

She sent him a tremulous smile and lowered her eyes but Tom hadn't finished with her yet.  
“Come now Minerva,” he told her lightly, dropping the oblivious mask.“You can't believe that your brother will disown you for that? You will marry, of course, within the week.” his voice was deceptively gentle but there wasn't the slightest doubt that it was an absolute order.

Alphard obviously didn't expect something so final.

“Gladly, my Lord,” the honorific got out instinctually, in response to that tone, then he seemed to snap out of it. “But why so fast, when even a bit of organization will make sure there won't be any talk?”

A shadow seemed to pass from Tom's face at being questioned and then it smoothed out to something so good-natured that even those that ate up his act would have been suspicious. Harry started to have a very bad feeling.  
“You can ignore it of course, Alphard, and start organizing the most brilliant marriage ceremony and reception you can, but are you ready to risk losing Minerva over it?”

Leonard started to get a clue and tried to step back while Alphard's face darkened.  
“What do you mean?” his voice was respectful but promised unbearable pain to anyone daring to stop them.

Tom's hand fell heavy to his shoulder.  
“Harry here has taken a very interesting oath at Leonard's prompting. Should you be unwilling, or unable, to fulfil your obligations in dearest Minerva our golden boy is to immediately take your place.”

A muffled gasp heard to that _oh so delightful_ piece of information and Harry face palmed.  
“I can't believe...” Dorea sounded embarrassed.

But Tom hadn't finished yet with his point.  
“Should anything happen to you in the battle I'm sure that your brother in law will be only too happy to accept the fulfilment to said oath.”

A pained cry was suddenly heard from a startled Leonard but it wasn't instigated from Alphard. Minerva's grave and tight lipped expression left no doubt to the matter.

But Leonard wasn't the type to accept even just deserts and glared, rubbing his prickling arms.  
“Honestly, what's your problem? I've already told you that I consider you a part of my family, what's more natural than ensuring you will become Lady Potter instead of being left unprotected?”

Minerva looked even angrier and Harry cringed at the look she sent him, after favouring Leonard. He tried to explain.  
“Look, I've never intended to enforce this without your consent, I just wanted to help you in case you ended facing a scandal without any actual support.”

She didn't seem that reassured from this, nodding her acceptance of his apology but obviously remained far from happy with him. Alphard, on the contrary, didn't do even that. He looked betrayed and very likely contemplating on which one to hex first.

“Enough.” Tom's tone indicated that he wasn't to suffer another word to that particularly matter; “Deal with that frivolity later.” a breath. “Minerva, will you write to your brother to come here? With Lady Potter's approval of course.” he softened it marginally.

Minerva was jarred from the change but definitely didn't lack courage, she straightened her shoulders.  
“Will he be safe if I do?” the tone was respectful but ready to become less so.

“Yes, you have my word to this.” Harry interfered, making his point to both Minerva and Tom. He definitely planned to keep it.

Minerva looked marginally relieved to this, but Tom pointedly ignored him and gave his own answer.  
“Assuming he keeps to his professional principles, yes. But should he accepts our case and choose to disclose sensitive information I can't guarantee his survival.”

Minerva looked faintly green but accepting more or less.  
“I understand. I believe that there won't be any problems with that but I will talk to him to ensure it.”

A cruel smile touched Tom's lips.  
“Excellent!” he cast a tempus , _it was_ __a quartet to nine._ _ “I'm leaving you to your revenge then, but I would prefer it if the letter was sent before our departure for Auror camp.” it was definitely another order.

And he left the room, just like that.

Leaving Harry to face –with Leonard– a very disapproving Dorea, an angry and insulted Minerva, and a fuming and hurt Alphard. But Harry just squared his shoulders ready to face what he had done.

He was undoubtedly going to spend some very unpleasant moments _-for the disappointment he caused most of all-_ but there was a definite silver lining to the whole matter.

 __Tom definitely still cared, however angry, to make such a big matter for something so unlikely to happen and while he acted like Harry didn't exist to him anymore he still heard him out and respected his opinion, but more importantly kept on referr_ _ __ing_ _ __to his current and future plans_ _ __by_ _ __the pronoun '_ _ __We'._ _

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

  _ _ **Zevi's pov**__

Zevi watched Hermione carefully as she pretended to still care about her breakfast and tried to distract the little girl so that she wouldn't' leave to search for the rest of her family, as she clearly wanted. She seemed relaxed as she engaged the kid, with funny but still educational quizzes, all without being patronizing or condescending about it _-_ __she was going to become a great mother some day!__ But Zevi could clearly see the tension lines on her face or by the way she moved and, even more, he could tell that she was all but trembling from her deep worry.

He couldn't blame her, truly, he was deeply worried about the chasm between Tom and Harry too. __(_ _ __M_ _ __ore like approaching panicked, but something inside him still hoped)_ _ and even the matter about Minerva looked grave, if one judged from the reactions of those in the kn o w. __-_ _ __A_ _ __domestic he could bet, from what he had observed so far._ _ _B_ ut he couldn't lie to himself either, it cut even deeper to Hermione than it did to him.

Zevi held no illusions about the whole matter; he knew perfectly well that he was taking a huge risk when he decided to court her. Hermione's heart wasn't wholly free for his claim and even if he won her there were strong doubts that he was ever going to own it in it's entirety.

In the start it was merely the shadow of that boy left to the future: Weasley, that it was detaining him... _-_ _H_ _e honestly couldn't see what had attracted her to him, except maybe common experiences and chemistry, they had absolutely nothing in common)_ Ron Weasley had been her first love and so forever immortalised, however unsuitable. He couldn't just barge in and flirt, he would have ended rejected, badly, and lose her friendship in the process;

Then she had fallen for his Lord, which was hardly surprising either.   
There was no female in the school that hadn't sent admiring, awed, looks towards him. Tom was always the first they noticed and everyone else paled until he dismissed them. –Thankfully almost always fast– But it had been so much worse for Hermione.

His beloved girl had fallen for his Lord's intelligence _–_ __or sheer genius to be exact_ _ __–_ _ that, and the love he held for Harry, as it did make him more than a beautiful face and a brilliant, if scary, mind. If she didn't love Harry just as much, although in a different way, she would have stayed totally consumed with him, utterly ignoring the fact that other men existed. Even if he wasn't loyal at Tom he would have remained unable to compete with him.

Harry was just the cherry on top to the whole matter. Nothing like a lover to her –more like a beloved brother–he had been none the less half the pillar to her whole existence –that and her studies– and even now her entire focus was directed on helping him.

Zevi could hardly blame her on that, his very own centripetal point could be found on Tom and Harry, but he was making space for her too – __as a friend and life partner._ _ _He wished for her to do the same for him but Alphard, the hormonal idiot, was absolutely right:  
If Tom never made a move to her their balance and platonic trio would have kept them (Harry more and Hermione less) happy and Hermione wouldn't have considered to ask for anything more for many, many, years._

It wasn't hopeless for him though, he was a very dear friend to her and things had indeed changed. However much she loved Harry, she had started turning for comfort to him too, going as far as starting seeing him as her safe harbour. Additionally there had being a definite spark to their first kiss –and those following it– and a deepened understanding between them, but he wanted even more.

He wanted to become her first thought in the morning and the last at night, wanted to see her face alight with trust and passion as he would give her pleasure _-_ __her first there too if he could-_ _ but most deeply he wanted for Hermione to see him even a little bit like he saw her.

Hermione enclosed entire universes inside her heart and soul; she wasn't just finding worlds in her books, like the rest of people. She could find them in the barest scrap of knowledge to those books, more, she could create worlds by merging those scraps.

She didn't have so deep an understanding and fascination with potions, as he did, but she was coming, far, far closer than other people and could understand his feelings to them if only she compared them with her own, regarding her spellwork. He didn't even care for the way she nitpicked on things, for she understood his own passion to detail.

But Hermione wasn't just a brain to him, no matter how rare a genius in magical theory and application. She was a beautiful woman too, one that could inflame him with a smile, or a laugh, the most passionate woman he had met on his life. It didn't matter with what she would choose to work with, she would give it her whole self, and it wouldn't stop to merely inanimate things.

She would literally die to defend anyone's rights, but was also able to think before acting to do just that and would put herself on anyone's place.

Zevi wanted a place under her sun too. It didn't matter if he had to put up with the lone candle in her heart for the red haired boy, the girlish longing for the moon she felt for Tom or her latent sisterly/motherly inclinations towards Harry, he was going to win her.

He frankly didn't care for how long he was going to fight for her, he knew he was going to prevail. Rome wasn't built in a day after all, nor that complicated, huge, thing between Tom and Harry; it had been years in the making.

There was going to be a time for them too.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Hermione's almost strained laugh and Annette's more genuine one forced his attention to the present. But then he noticed that while the girls were busy with their game Abraxas was just as absorbed reading his own personal correspondence.

There was something bizarre there too, an expression of deep anxiety and open concern, something very unusual for his sometimes antagonist, but mostly dear friend, there. - __Not that Brax didn't feel things, far from it.__ _But_ _ _-__ _a_ _s he would have personally put it- it was unbecoming for a Malfoy to show them._

“Psst Brax? Abraxas?” he whispered softly to not draw the girls' attention.“Is everything alright, you seem tense?” he half expected a polite dismissal and a straightening of the other's posture, as it would have been the customary reaction, but Brax surprised him once again.

His friend didn't make even the basic attempt to hide his thoughts, or his deeply lined face.

“I'm concerned,” he said at least. “This was from Marcella; she had permission to stay with Colette Greengrass until after Boxing Day but my mother wrote to her, telling her to not return until after New Year.” a breath. “She has written me that father is sick with dragon pox and that was the reason I was so free to stay away at vacation but such an enforcement implies a far stronger decline.”

Zevi couldn't see anything exaggerated with the blond's concerns, he knew how close knit was his family and the fact that had been all but ordered to stay away from home told a lot. Even his own family had let him go for the entirety only because he had already visited earlier for Hanukkah with the school's permission.

 __Still__ …  
“I'm sure that if there was immediate danger your mother would have informed you as the Heir.”

Brax sent him a bitter smile.  
“I know, it's my only comfort. No news is good news.” he intoned the last part.  
“Sounds a bit ironic though, no?”

“I hope from my heart that he will pull through.” Hermione interrupted them in a normal voice. She had her young charge colouring in a piece of paper and had put the three of them under a muffing bubble.

“Words alone can help very few things. But I seem to recall the latest cure for dragon pox from my time, Dumbledore's recipe. I'm sure that Zev will test it to make sure I remember it alright and it truly works.” she sent him a persuading look.  
“Won't you, Zev?”

Zev nodded his keen agreement, not even caring that she volunteered him without really asking - __it spoke of trust and comfort that she dared to do this._ _

“Thank you Hermione! Thank you Zevi! I really appreciate it.” Abraxas sounded beyond grateful as he conjured parchment, ink, and a quill, to work on the letter to his mother, knowing much better than approaching the library right now, and Zevi was again amazed at how different were their lives.

__Five years back Brax would have never considered calling a muggleborn friend, now he accepted her help without any single reservation, different lives indeed!_ _

Later, as he and Hermione worked on the ingredient list, side by side, she leaned a bit against him.  
“I'm scared.” she confessed softly to his ear, so only he would hear her.“They have been left for more than a quartet and no one returned so far and we will have to leave for the camp soon.”

He took her loosely in his arms.

“Don't be.” he whispered right back. “There is ample reason for concern and I would be lying if I said that I don't worry too, but the fact that Tom took the time to play with Harry's nerves, instead of doing something worse –and more importantly that he still cared enough to involve him in his schemes is a great reason to hope for.” a breath. “Remember what I have told about a deluge to come?” he asked her lightly.

“Yes,” she immediately answered warily, her eidetic memory making instantly the connection.

“We are living it.” he put it dryly and they both allowed themselves a cathartic laugh. Hermione remained tense though and after a moment Zevi continued. “As for Minerva, it can't be something irrevocably, if it was we would have found out by now.”

She relaxed a bit and rested the top of her head against his neck.  
“I hope to God, Zevi, that you are right.”

They stayed that way for a few idyllic moments but before they had the chance to return to their work a childish voice interrupted them.  
“Are you two going to marry?” Annette asked, sounding very interested.  
“My friend Drusilla became a flower girl to her cousin and I want it too.” she informed them with a smile.

A smile that was very fast fell, as she didn't seem to understand the reason for their huge matching blushes.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS Edited at 11/27/2014
> 
> Please review to inspire me for more...


	16. Contemplations Resignations and Reconcililations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guys fight, face some things, and the then meet again...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there I know I'm dreadfully late, almost four months on the dot, but I finally managed to give you a chapter. Excuses aside, which you already know, this is literally a double chapter. I intended to post at Tom's birthday and was ready with a couple hours delay but my friends wanted the reconciliation too:)  
> Well THIS happened:  
> Enjoy
> 
> PS This chapter is dedicated to A Dueling Heart:D Happy Birthday my friend and sorry for been so awfully late, Time literally fled from me:/
> 
> All my love  
> Krysania

**Chapter Sixteen: Contemplations Resignations and Reconciliations**

_ **Harry's pov** _

Harry kept going through the set drills almost mechanically, counting the minutes for the break. He really needed to check the Department of Mysteries for those books, since he had a feeling in his gut that a new and probably deadly confrontation with his partner was fast approaching. Tom's possessiveness and jealously in the morning had brought his hopes up for a reconciliation but those hopes had crashed, painfully so, in the next hours. For he could see nothing but burning anger and worse, sometimes, indifference to the other's gaze, the rare times he bothered to look at him.

It spiked Harry's own anger through the roof, cause it made him wonder if the morning scene was nothing more than an elaborate rush of his partner's, to convince the others that he still cared and so not risk their loyalty if he died in the battle or otherwise. The thought hurt well beyond belief and he made Tom pay, many times over, using the other's sorest subject: Public Humiliation.

His partner had advanced beyond belief to what he couldn't even touch when they had first met, but on purely Light magics he still couldn't best him - _especially when he was so far motivated._

Harry enjoyed his revenge to the other; hardly caring anymore on how Tom was going to retaliate afterwards. But when that was done and he was satisfied, he started thinking on more broad terms and realised that Tom's foul mood and rage may have been completely unrelated to him, _well before._

The sore subject was something that bothered and irritated him as well and he had honestly no idea on how he was going to fix it, or even stop Tom from doing something extremely foolish, or deadly; _(those two were usually close intertwined)_

Their new problem was that while Jasper Bones had gone to the bat for them, (done before Tom removed the curse from Amelia to his utter surprise) George Diggory didn't held to the same principles, or even foresight, and, while he knew what had against him, still refused to place his political weight behind them and fully support Bones to the Minister with granting them permission to fight on their full capabilities, countering it with a vague promise of a full pardon afterwards.

Harry would have to be a complete idiot to agree in this and he wanted to tear his hair out from sheer frustration. He did the best he could to fix it though, by writing to Sam for help and arranging with Leonard to have the Diggorys for dinner in Potter Manor tomorrow night, instead of the Undersecretary's home as it had been proposed. Tom wouldn't have it as easy to totally let loose in front of witnesses, _(maybe he needed to invite the Bones as well?)_ and definitely wouldn't kill if it could be traced back to him. He knew of course that he was still taking a huge risk, but he considered it a calculated one as he believed that could diffuse any situation, at least until the battle.

 _Tom wasn't an idiot to face Grindelwald alone,_ and he could deal afterwards.  
 _Well, he would. Assuming he found the information for the ritual he was searching for, he definitely could._

The whole idea was probably insane, but it held real promise. Everyone and their mother, even muggles, knew that Nimue, wanting Merlin only for herself, had cast a spell on him that got him to sleep peacefully in her arms –and she with him– for all eternity. But what anyone hardly knew was that there was a true ritual behind the legend.

Harry had been lucky that Professor Merrythought was one of those rare few and, even more so, had enough of a romantic nature to share it with her NEWT class, together with any proof she had of this, except the exact details of the ritual itself. He could have used a few more details but he had a plan to find them anyway. While even the Potter Grimoire didn't have the exact information, he believed that the Department of Mysteries would have it for him. _Merrythought_ _had been an Auror in her youth after all._ But even if was wrong in his belief he could still find her home address from the Ministry, cajole the information out her and obliviate her from the knowledge that she had given it. _(And yes he knew what kind of messy thing he was planning…)_

If things ever got to the point of no return this was the best solution he could find for his partner to never become Voldemort. He never wanted to hurt him if he had a choice to the matter. Harry knew that Tom hated both the idea of muggle hell and oblivion. _Even at the end of the rope he would spare him both if he could_ … _and himself too if he was honest, for there were some futures he would rather not even think about._

(He stopped that train of thought at once)

Still, now that he wasn't so angry with Tom, he had to admit that his partner still included him in his plans, even incensed with rage against him – _he had in fact insisted on it–_ and while he didn't doubt for a moment that there was manipulation involved he know that a great percent of it was genuine too.

Harry started revaluating things and the more he did the worse he felt. Tom had offered to share with him every single thing he had, including the sovereign to his followers. He had made the virtually impossible, for him, transition from 'I' to 'We' and what Harry had done to this priceless gift?

The moment he had to take a decision, regarding the both of them, what did he do? Did he ask Tom's opinion on the matter, like a proper partner should, or even offered a simple heads up, for courtesy's sake? No, he didn't. He literally spat Tom's offer, and Tom himself for that matter, to the other's face.

... _No wonder the other wanted to kill him..._

The remorse was drowning him and Harry resoluted within himself to apologise at Tom the first chance he got. But even drowning with guilt to the inside Harry already felt better. _Finally, he had found the bee to the other's bonnet, maybe there was still hope!_

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

_ **Tom's pov** _

Tom watched with mute furry as, with the end of the excursion, Harry had once again disappeared with his new friends, the Aurors Septimus Weasley and Anthony Longbottom. That had been going on by three days already, Harry mostly ignoring him -unless forced- and continuing on like nothing happened, as if it was already decided they were to part ways.

His eyes met the dispassionate ones of Auror Bones and he had to use all his considerate talent to keep up his mask and just leave for the locker room. The temporary Head Auror had made no secret of his intentions to grasp Harry for Auror corps if he himself chose to drop him. That wasn't news for him; the dissimilar treatment had been obvious from the start, ever since his partner had impressed Bones. While he and the rest of their company were still viewed with mild suspicion Harry had been elevated to be treated like a senior cadet for that accomplishment.

There were added spells or more in depth instructions to every tactic, law, and Auror procedure, even got to get taught personally by the Head Auror himself and his most trusted ones. Additionally, his partner was given full unrestricted access to the library or was frequently called forward to show the other cadets how it was done, all with the explicit expectation that Harry would follow up upon graduation.

The authorized part of this courting wasn't troubling Tom all that much, it had always been a possibility and Harry didn't seem all that ready to chain himself on the Ministry program yet. Moreover he had dutifully done everything in his power to include him and their followers at what he had learned so far and the privileges, having made no move to discourage things to keep up the offerings.

However the unofficial part was a very different matter and he seemed to consider deeply at least parts of what was offered.

An apprenticeship to the Head Auror wasn't a small thing. Not only could it give Harry instant entrance to the academy –sans exams –and an accelerated program. But, if he accepted it, he could do it right now, drop Hogwarts at once and just take his NEWT'S at the Ministry to his complete leisure.

Tom understood the Ministry's reasoning all too well for their offer: Harry was incredibly powerful -by any standards- and had already proved that he was the only one capable to stand up against him if he ever chose open warfare against the state, (Albus Bloody Dumbledore had already made his move trying to blacklist him) and it could probably divide his ranks. It was a logical step to try recruiting him.

But still, nothing of this explained the immediateness and width of Bones' personal offer and the dedication it implied. No matter how much he analysed it he couldn't come up with a professional or general motive for his approach and so had started to expand on more personal or unconventional ones.

_There was something subtly off about the senior Auror in any case._

Harry would undoubtedly call him paranoid if he brought the matter up again, as he did the first time, but he remembered very sharply that first talk. Bones had offered his understanding on both counts but it was only at the second one: of sexual orientation, that had made an actual promise to look the other way.

An action that frankly didn't fit with Tom's evaluation of the man's incorruptible character  _–such a keen, uncompromising, defender of the law–_ (unless he really wasn't what he looked like) and _–of course–_ his blatant, almost instant, interest for his partner.  
Also, whereas homosexuality was officially against the law, no one would consider interfering to a relationship between master and apprentice, as it was considered sacred and consequently untouchable by such small things as a decree.

He recalled all the known personal facts about Bones:

Widowed, from long years ago, to a young wife that had met and lost while serving in India. Childless, with an only male heir, his eleven years old nephew, Edgar…and yet… the Auror never sought out to remarry…it wasn't unfeasible…That or he had changed his mind about Harry and Amelia ...it wasn't that impossible a feat either...

Bones wasn't a young man any more and it was more than probable that he wanted a strong, incorruptible, regent for his House and young heir in case of his demise, violent or otherwise. Harry would be perfect for that role and the Auror already knew him well enough to discern that he would remain faithful no matter what, to a wife, if committed. (Especially with him out of the picture)

But for whatever the Auror's reason and while Tom hasn't managed to break into his mind without his knowledge _–yet–_ to be sure, he knew enough to recognise a definite threat. However the real threat, and what truly maddened Tom, was Harry's defeatism and consequently his susceptibility at said offer, like if he had already given up to them and so grasped for acceptance and security wherever he could find them.

That golden boy was miserable and regretting his actions _–to a point–_ was plain to see, but he acted with such resignation that made Tom's teeth ache by the constant grinding. Harry had tried for reconciliation numerous times already but also had, very atypically, always given up after a little while. On the contrary he looked up at Bones with more respect every day that passed.

 _It was like he didn't care enough to really try and hadn't even managed to understand his reasons to been angry for Salazar's sake!  
_ Tom's rage spiked dangerously with that thought and his hands closed fitfully on the sink as he tried to control it. _-It was not the time and definitely not the place for him to let go._

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

The repeated splashing of cold water to his face helped some but not completely and it was at that specific vulnerable moment that Harry chose to find him. Their eyes met at the bathroom's mirror, both looking a bit worse the wear, but Tom's hardened instantly.  
“Shouldn't you be with your new friends?” he asked point black to not do something undignified, like throwing him out.

Harry didn't seem to even notice his sarcasm; he looked so contrite that it hurt; still he had the presence of mind to stay at a distance.  
 **“** **I'm so sorry, Tom, I hadn't understood, I wasn't trying to exclude you, or to discard everything that you have given me, I swear. I just wasn't thinking, like usual, I'll try to not repeat that mistake.”** there was such flare of hope into his eyes that he hated it.

Tom snorted to this but it was bitter. _Harry hadn't understood!  
Still, he hadn't understood. _

The apology was honest and spot on, in part, however it was only a small fraction of what had angered him so and a bit too little too late a comprehension for Harry's ability and the passed time.  
 _Harry still didn't get it or even wanted to._

 **“** **Nice try love, just not enough. I would prefer it if you didn't waste my time, unless you had something meaningful to say.”** Harry's eyes widened a bit, maybe for his absolute dismissal, and he continued. **  
“Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you. Why should I kill my horcrux after all?”** the words came out quite normal, Tom himself almost believed them.

There was a flare of satisfaction for hurting Harry like he had been hurt and it helped. But the dying of that hope, the dimming to those green eyes, left a very bitter taste to his mouth.  
“Tom.” but for all the apparent despair Harry still didn't given up _(and how ironic it was that he chose to do so today of all days)_ and stepped forward.

He couldn't stand that look, - _those eyes-_ if Harry touched him now he wasn't sure what he was going to do, so he disillusioned himself and left, trying to put that betrayed look out of his mind. Tom wasn't thinking as he walked on, his only aim was to reach the apparition point and that pattern continued even after he reached it. He wasn't surprised in where he found himself though; it was a very habitual place for him at his first Hogwarts years.

The moorland behind Hogwarts was both well hidden from view, due to the closeness at the Forbidden Forest, and away enough from the school (just out of the wards) that remained private at all times. He used the place as he did then, before discovering the Come and Go Room, releasing a stream of violent curses and destroying everything standing on his way, rocks, trees, bushes, (even animals stupid enough to not scamp out in time.)

He let go, as he did then, (he could punish his followers that offended him but was inadvisable to look and even - _be-_ out of control.) He let it all go until the last speck of light was long gone and the moon was getting high in the sky. It helped a bit – _nowhere near as it did then_ –but when he collapsed at a remaining rock to get back his breath he could think about Harry without seeing red and had gained some clarity.

It started drizzling softly and he absentmindedly spelled himself impervious.

The fact was that while Harry had finally gotten right the specific point it really didn't help all that much, if at all. It totally enraged him that his partner's first instinct was always to act by himself, like if he didn't have anyone else to count at, but even that was hardly a mortal wound (he understood his upbringing all too well to be more) and he could _–eventually–_ forgive it.

Nor was he even remotely happy with _–_ or honestly barely tolerating _–_ his partner's tendency to see middle aged adults he respected (Salazar only knows how that happened with the drunkard!) as sort of father figures to the point of getting seriously influenced by them. Black had been controllable and so tolerable, but in Dumbledore's case it had taken up until he nearly killed them (in his partner's circumstances quite literally) for Harry to snap out of it.

He doubted that the current cases of that particular affliction were going to bring anything good but again he could live with it.  
...However the exact damage, those two irritations had made, was to expose the true wound lurking underneath, one that had stricken true on vulnerable organs...

His hot-headed hero had been right in one part after all, his idiotic oath didn't change the actual demands and terms between them, not at their essence at least. What it had done was to expose things inside him that he'd rather didn't knew about. He had always knew that, if it ever came to that –if he even merely approached the madness that was Voldemort –his partner was going to do what he considered right and attempt to kill him (and probably succeed if he was determined enough) no matter the personal consequences. It was one of the things that Tom counted on, his Harry's steely resolve and uncompromising streak, irregardless of what it was going to do on his own heart: (he may end irrevocably broken inside, well beyond repair and screaming to the heavens, but he would do it.)

Tom could live with that fact and even embrace it, due that it also held true to the reverse. He never had the slightest doubt that he could kill Harry in a flash if he ever dared to go completely against him.  
 _But not anymore, not really.  
_ In the here and now he had to face that it wasn't strictly true any longer, he had lied to himself all these days. Sparing Harry at that moment of acute betrayal had nothing to do with logic or even choice; he had acted completely by instinct.

Even at this moment of clarity that he totally, as objectively he could, acknowledged that there wasn't a greatest threat to him than Harry if he chose to (and an open weakness that sapped his strength even if he didn't) not Bones and his inquiring mind, not Grindelwald, not even Dumbledore, he still doubted to.

His mind kept on flashing on a life without Harry; he hardly needed the information he had from Voldemort's life to know how it would be. Tom was already walking on a fine edge to his patience, trying to avoid Gramps' mistakes. His only true entertainment through this mess came due to Harry mostly and he would be bored, bored beyond belief, without him around. (colourless and empty too) No other interaction could ever drew his interest like this, (although he had discovered hidden depths even on those he had deemed open books before) and no one was ever going to surpass his Harry, not even come close.

So he was still disinclined, maybe even incapable, of destroying said threat unless his partner attacked him first with deadly intent. (And even then he wasn't completely sure he wouldn't hesitate for a bare moment ... and that was all that Harry would need a moment.)  
 _He could forgive him for his own faults but never for the uncertainty and weakness that was inspiring. On second thought it was a blessing that Harry hadn't understood, it saved his dignity._

Conclusively the strictly logical thing for him would be to act as he had already told Harry: to let him live merely so he could keep the horcrux and cash on his Light connections. It was a good way to not repeat Voldemort's mistakes and keep some variety. But it had its own singular problems:  
ONE: It had been proved fact that he couldn't trust Harry's word if it came between him and his principles, or even to have the barest regard for his own life. Worse, it was impossible for him _–_ _even now–_ to completely disregard it.  
TWO: While as logical ratiocination it was sound he was honest enough with himself, at this moment, to admit that it wouldn't really hold if he tested it. If he kept Harry alive, even at arms' length purely to keep the benefits, it wasn't going to stay that way. Sooner rather than later he was going to either break and kill him or succumb again to his insane pull.

Which was coming again to the first point: Harry loved him but he wouldn't hesitate to destroy him if forced and even if Tom attempted to forgive him this and dedicated years to his punishment for the transgression he was still never going to stop resenting him, no matter what.  
He would probably spend their lives making him suffer for it until Harry broke and retaliated, forcing his own move.

 _Totally unacceptable._ Back on his first plan then.

But, assuming that he managed to keep Harry at a business like relationship, he wouldn't even get the simple satisfaction of seeing golden boy suffering his rejection. The little bastard wasn't going to have an easy time, of that he was sure, but Tom also knew that he was going to get it over eventually and continue with his life, more or less intact, like he had done it twice by now.

It was already happening. Harry had already started distancing from his friends to protect them and making new connections in an instinctual preparation to start afresh. Auror Bones (and the father like figure he was becoming) was simply the most blatant example out of this. Tom couldn't even pretend that he found even remotely acceptable such a prospect; _Harry's time, thoughts, emotions and attention were his, no one else's, one way or another._

Suddenly Tom couldn't help a broken, bitter, almost hysterical laugh.

The whole analysis was bringing forth the memories of the debates he had with Voldemort regarding Harry. He had been so brash then, throwing his points like daggers, so certain in his beliefs and knowledge that he was never going to become something so disgusting. He still wasn't taking back a single point he had made, however some of Voldemort's were hurting now as they couldn't then, but truthfully it were his own the ones that had condemned him.

He straightened his body. _H_ _e wasn't to give even Snake-remnants' memory the satisfaction.  
_ _There must be a solution he could live with?  
_ _But no,_ no matter how much he searched for, couldn't come up with something that would allow him to either accept back Harry or give him the push to part with him once and for all.

_But maybe he wasn't thinking about this in the right parameters? Perhaps he simply needed to start again from the beginning?  
_ _Harry had been so concerned by his spreading madness that he was ready to get himself petrified to avoid the risk to the others, maybe he just needed to give him another chance to attempt it?_

As for him, there was not a single reason in hell he should spend fifty years bored. He was keyed to the Potter wards and had the time spell, he could very easily move forward in time to snatch baby Harry and raise him as he pleased. Not to someday become his lover obviously (that thought was disgusting) but he could get his worthy companion all the same.

A Harry raised by him wouldn't have those, quite frankly, obsessive morals and even if it truly was something innate it would still not come out like the whole world rested on his shoulders. More, he would have Harry's whole dedication directed only to himself, challenged by none and nothing.  
 _It was a worthy point._

Tom sighed.  
 _Worthy point or not he wasn't going to do it._

The simplest reason against it was that he had no intention to become a father and gain those inane baby responsibilities, not even to Harry.   
(Even if Harry had agreed to his plan, to become parents someday, it wouldn't come up to this, the surrogate or Harry would have dealt with the unpleasantness.)

But there was also and a much deeper point: Even if he became fond of the child, (and if there was a kid he could become fond of it would be him) he still wouldn't be his Harry. Their common past that bonded them together and even Harry's personal history, that had shaped the man he was, would be erased, the task was pointless.

The rain became heavier, Tom ignored it.

Seeing as he was never going to be truly satisfied with anything but Harry himself, exactly as he was, his mind started going in more insidious paths. He had known from when Harry had died that his soul remained attached with his horcrux and consequently with him. So if he died, and remained so, would have no choice but to hunt him, incapable of going anywhere but be at his side and, most of all, indefinitely powerless to affect any of his decisions.

The instant the thought concluded into his mind Tom clutched his stomach, almost doubling over, by nausea.

Tom wasn't that weak and inept to either live without or handling Harry that he would destroy him to force him to stay by any means at his side. It was reprehensible and way beneath him and only someone as degenerated as the Abomination could have come up with it.

That was, after all, Voldemort's game over plan regarding Harry. He felt sullied by even having considered it. Nor Harry deserved it _–_ he hadn't done anything more but being himself. _If_ Tom decided that it was too much anyway it was going to be a clean death – _that much he owed him._ He wasn't his father.

Not that he could ever need such a pathetic measure; Harry would always choose him willingly in the end given a choice.   
Tom wasn't his mother either.

Still, while the mere reflection to his parents intensified his sickness and the simple thought of taking after them disgusted him, some part of Tom's ruthless logic insisted to disagree and to point out more and more similarities. He had no choice but to face that possibility.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

  _{He had known the basic facts about his parents long before meeting his father of course:_

_The Riddle name was obviously not a pureblood one and his thorough research revealed the Gaunts and a possible location relatively easy. The marriage scandal had been juicy enough by itself in the pureblood community to be gossiped about twelve years afterwards and even speculation concerning love potions wasn't unheard about. (A shameful detail that had been confirmed by his toxic reaction to Amortentia.)_

_However those facts were nothing but the bare bones of the truth. The scheduled visit to that wrenched Morfin and his weakling of a father held more surprises than expected even with Harry's knowledge…_

_His mother had indeed been weak enough to use the potion to entice his father but, as he had observed from the memories of the man himself, it didn't happen due to something revolting, like infatuation. Merope had been calculating and had trapped the elder Riddle, using potions and even the Imperious, to get away from her wretched, painful, intolerable, life…_

_Tom could honestly respect his mother for that. She had used considerable cunning and every single one of her talents, from parseltongue, to potions, and casting, all to bend his father to her will. However it was her actions afterwards, once she managed to convince him leave with her to London and marry her, which erased completely any of said respect for her achievement._

_It was one thing to do something to survive and even prosper but she did the unthinkable and fell for her own lies. Tom had grown frankly sick as he perused the memories and saw that his mother grew more infatuated and pathetic the more days and months she spent with his father._ _A kinder person may have found this inevitable as his father treated her far better that she was almost certainly used to, (ironically like if she was his whole life) but Tom wasn't such a person and merely found it pathetic and/or moronic._

_His father was as much of a surprise too. He was still a filthy muggle and not even a half-decent human being. (Harry's words not his) But he still had enough willpower in his soul that he eventually managed to beat the imperious. Additionally, had the consummating acting skills (when he started resisting) to behave at the exact same manner towards Merope._ _His mother in turn used the Unforgivable more and more in the five months she stayed with him. (Perhaps she suffered from the purported allergy the potion is said to cause in some pregnant women but that was only conjecture from his part not known fact.)_ _Still, Tom couldn't find in himself any kind of respect for those talents either, as his father proved to be an even worse bloody coward than he already expected, less than a slug really._

_For when Tom Riddle Sr. was sure of himself and took action, breaking Merope's wand, not only run away as fast he could, even though already knew that his wife was pregnant, (Tom wasn't even going to try recalling how attentive and caring he had been in the previous two months because of said pregnancy) but, when he reached his home, didn't even have the guts to continue with his life, confining himself to his house and barely leaving it, until he himself came to face him._ – _Well, he had sent an investigator to find out the fate of his wife and son after some years, but the news weren't enough to make him overcome his terror and he had never approached him although he had found his location.–_

_Tom had been very happy and obliging to realise the worse of his fears.}_

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

No matter how much he tried to Tom wasn't able to shake away the thought that he wasn't much better than his mother. The fact that he broke and claimed Harry before the right time indicated of this. He still had no proof whatsoever that his partner would have chosen him that way at all in his right mind. Even the whole mess he had created could have been Harry's subconscious way to break the dependency hold he had on him. Tom was neither paranoid nor overdramatic here; his cautious nature had been plaguing him with doubts ever since he awoke to Harry's kisses that first morning.

Nothing truly could break the hold they had to each other _–_ _the mere fact that he was still considering this proved it –_ but maybe his earlier deduction that it was healthier to keep it at a platonic distance was the right one after all. _(He couldn't help the self note that, interesting enough, said decision had been taken after a summer visit at a specific country manor.)_

Still, dark humour and self awareness aside, everything he knew about Harry insisted that his partner wouldn't have made that mistake if they weren't together. That, even though he would have wanted to protect his friends no matter what, he would have kept his head even at the circumstances.

Something inside Tom softened marginally with this thought – _Harry both held on to him and fought him giving everything he had–_ and allowed himself to recall Harry's apology _–_ _it still bothered him for some reason._ The memory would have been an instant one, even without being recent and his total recall, as it was literally burned into his mind: Harry had been both earnest and passionate to set things right between them - but it wasn't that, it was his eyes.

Tom's lips tightened with the realisation that in the end of that talk Harry looked very much like the memory of his mother as she was deserted, like his whole world was crumbling around him, but that couldn't be right either. He had watched Harry carefully all those days and it hadn't dawned to him yet how the cost of his vows (not just the ones between them but the more broad ones) was set to affect his entire life. It still hadn't. Harry's despair was only due to him, nothing else. Maybe he was mistaken in thinking he was less affected than he was. It definitely was reason enough for him to hear again that apology. - _He never wanted to have anything in common with his bastard of a father anyway._

He got up, then hesitated again.  
While he was in a bit more conciliatory mood Tom was still angry and in need of revenge...   
_M_ _aybe he shouldn't see Harry yet until he resolved this some more._

Indeed the consequences of Harry's vows were so monumental for the both of them, especially if he kept him at his side, that he couldn't let it slice even if he wanted to. (he didn't) But again that didn't mean that it was his Harry the one that had to pay directly. The more he thought about it the more sense it made. His half Gryffindor may have followed his nature but it certainly wasn't completely innate, someone had raised him that way.

_How was it put in that memory? Ah!  
"You are also half marked by a human, not destiny, as sacrifice." definitely not so natural._

_Maybe he should simply redirect his rage and mete out his punishment to those responsible of eradicating his partner's self-worth and preservation?_ The thought more than appealed to him - _but_ (and then Tom sighed) _there were still problems._

Tom hated it –more like sipping acid hated– but had to admit that he couldn't _–yet–_ take Dumbledore alone. With Harry's help he bet that could. But while golden boy would snap at him, as it would irritate his sense of fair play to have someone else pay in his place, he had enough against the old man that he could eventually consent.

The problem was that even with this solved they couldn't afford to kill him yet. They needed him to at least attack them first, which was way too smart to do, in an open way…

_He still wasn't ready to desert that train of thought yet…_

Well, the abettor was currently untouchable but that didn't mean that the executor of the crime could get away with it. Vernon Dursley was already on his hit list and Tom all but rubbed his hands in glee as he started plotting his exact revenge. From his point of return, to the way he would approach him and, of course, all the tortures he was going to inflict on him, until he – _eventually–_ allowed him to die.  
(Frying him on his very own lard was heavily featured)

But, even as he plotted, a feeling of disquiet slowly killed his enjoyment and a deeper analysis stopped the intended course short. Tom barely held back a heavy expletive as he realised that he couldn't kill that piece of filth either _– at least not yet_.  
It wasn't due to any affection that Harry may hold for the bastard. _(not that it could have currently stopped him)_ On the contrary he was almost certain that deep down his partner hated _his uncle_ at least as much as he himself had hated _his caretakers_ on the orphanage.

The problem was that Harry's way to deal (and survive) with any violent (and sometimes just too intense) emotion was to suppress and deny it until the day he could handle it. But he was far from ready yet to do such a thing with his family. His partner hadn't even accepted the fact that he was abused, never mind what he felt about it.

If he killed Vernon and threw it on Harry's face (the half point of the excursion) or even Harry discovered it on his own, then his partner would be forced to face and try to come in terms with everything he suffered and his very own hate, which Tom doubted that he could do, in his current delicate condition, and remain with his sanity intact.

It would have to happen at least either following the bonding or after forcing some Elixir and the soul piece down Harry's throat.  
(He wasn't completely sure that Harry would be ready for such an inner confrontation even after this.)   
 _If Tom was set to completely shatter Harry then he could find far more delicious and entertaining ways to achieve it._

Not that his thirst for revenge had ceased, far from it. But after a calming breath, to ease his disappointment, he realised that there was still someone suitable for him to lash out, the very instigator and catalyst of the current mess in fact. _Oh, he was going to enjoy dealing with the Drunkard, at least as much as if it were the other bastards._ _He would still need to be careful, of course, as the cook was a known figure of sorts, but he was going find some answers tonight and eventually take his bloody revenge. (And it would be a quite intriguing challenge to break the amulet's protections.)_

A slow malicious smile started gracing Tom's lips.  
 _If he played his cards right he could do what he willed with the Greek (even go creative) and Harry wouldn't have a leg to stand even if he was foaming with rage. It was his own observation after all that the barleycorn may work for Dumbledore…_

Intensely cheered up Tom checked himself to see if he was presentable, in preparation to apparate, and then stopped cold with a displeased sound. While his clothes were protected from the rain he couldn't say the same for the magical backslash as were visited with a multiple of stains. The robes in particular were almost in taters and his hair, whilst dry, had started to form ringlets from the humidity. All those were easily fixable of course but, even with the stains and tears gone, he still felt dirty.

_He was hardly fit to be seen in public, even if the Cauldron was barely a step above hovel.  
Maybe he needed to test someone else first?_

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

A moment of concentration and he apparated in an altogether different place, knocking at the door without hesitation… Tom expected the house elf and so no immediate problems, but it wasn't Pechen'ye that had opened the door to him but the lady of the house.  
“Tom!” Nadia looked beyond shocked to see him in her door so soon, or even at all, after their last disastrous meeting.

...However she didn't tell him to leave at once.  
“Good evening Madam Kirova, may I come in?” he smiled charmingly.

Nadia continued her impression of a startled cat for a moment more and then snapped out of it and ushered him inside.   
“Oh come inside, you glupyy mal'chik, (silly boy) it's chilling outside and raining torrents.” she all but dragged him towards the bathroom -  _thankfully without touching skin._

“...You need to clean up.” Tom allowed it as it was exactly what he wanted to do and ignored the adjective. He enjoyed a luxurious hot shower and when he got out his clothes were washed, pressed and ready. Nadia had offered him dinner too, which he graciously accepted, he wanted to avoid as much time in the Cauldron he could, even as alibi.

The dinner was both delicious and peaceful, (Shchi soup and Pelmeni) as Nadia resumed her no questions policy although he could see that she burned to ask him about him and Harry. She didn't even ask about the late time visit, or his unusual untidiness. She accepted the vague answers that he's given her, although he could tell that she didn't really bought them, not even once attempting to make him feel unwelcome.

Tom was certain that if he had come here covered in blood and entails and asked her to cover for him she was going to comply. He could even move into this house the next day and she still wasn't going to complain about it, he would be welcome, even if she was worried about him.  
 _He could trust her to an extent._

Even if he set the time spell here (as he had planned) or even brought back Vernon, to work at his leisure, she still wouldn't call the Aurors to him and maybe even help him if he explained his reasons.  
 _She was beyond useful and he was starting to reconsider his resolution to kill her._

Still, it obviously cost her to keep her nose out if his business and he decided to throw her a bone as she was escorting him to the floo.  
“We may come to visit you after the New Year.” he didn't need more elaboration on which –we– it was.

Her delighted smile showed that she understood.  
“I will be happy to have you, both of you.” she answered immediately.  
He wasn't going to have any problems with her from now on.

 _Who knows, if golden boy didn't drove him crazy until then, he may keep his promise after all.  
_ “Be careful.” were her farewell words.  
 _Well some things didn't change no matter what…_

Tom, although he scoffed inside, just smiled charmingly and said that he would.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

The pub wasn't completely packed tonight but it was still unpleasantly full. Still it left him with a selection of choices and Tom chose his table with care. Not completely at a shadowy corner, to not look suspicious, but not exposed to everyone else either. It only took a couple minutes for the waitress to approach him and when she did Tom's smirk/smile was almost real inside his cowl with the easiness that things were falling to their place.

“What can I bring you, sir?” Sybil Trelawney asked him shyly but trying to sound professional. _(trying the adverb here)_  
But the _sir_ had a surprised and almost flirty accent as she recognised him.

Tom allowed himself to smile as he returned the examination with his full intensity, the girl blushed scarlet.  
“Scotch eggs and a glass of red wine.” he ordered and then appeared to be considering.   
“You are Sybil Trelawney aren't you, the fifth year Gryffindor?”

“You know me?” little Trelawney sounded incredulous and almost faint, her blushing approaching epic proportions.

Tom kept the warm tone with practised ease.  
“I do, I have noticed you at school and asked for your name.”

Trelawney ate it up.  
She seemed to stop breathing for a couple moments and regarded him completely star-struck. _(It didn't do well with her ugly hyperopic glasses)  
_ “You have?” she asked him awed, while her fingers played with her long ratty plait, a nervous and unconsciously receptive move.   
(The faster conquest he had made in his life!)

 _Harry's information was more than correct._ Tom scoffed inside with her idiocy.  
 _Like hell he could meant it._

Even if he held even a trace of attraction to girls he wouldn't have looked at her that way. Excruciatingly thin as she was and with absolutely no chest, (looking all of thirteen years old) not to mention that face, glasses, (an inch thick not tolerable like Harry's) and that hair.  
Really the kindest thing one could have compared her was a grasshopper.

...That was only her appearance though, her pea sized brain didn't add much at all. He honestly had no idea why Gramps had allowed to that bug to dictate his life with her hogwash, probably further proof of his deterioration... Thankfully he didn't have to suffer her company a moment's more...

The cook's for once silky (still kind of asinine) voice interrupted the supposed idyll.  
“Sybil, see to the other clients and the kitchen, I'll take it from here.” he looked rather murderous as he said those and his tone held no argument.

Trelawney looked very ashamed to this and a tiny bit angry but obeyed at once.  
“Yes Mantho.”

With the girl gone the lethal intent left the other's face, even if the animosity remained, and they exchanged glares in a battle of wills.   
Finally Aggelakis lowered his eyes first and procured a dusty wine bottle with a couple shot glasses.  
“Here, enchanted Raki, the drink of men.” an offer of temporary truce.

Tom smiled to the other, a very frosty smile, (but one that could successfully hide the extent of his own hate) and examined swiftly the bottle. Seeing it wasn't tempered in any way he opened it and repeated the process with the contents, just to be sure, it came clear again.  
“Thank you.”

Truce accepted, the Greek sat at Tom's opposite, levitated the bottle to serve them, and raised some wards.  
“I expected you for days, I owe you an explanation to the very least.” he didn't seem regretful to the slightest, nor elaborate.

“That you do.” Tom allowed and added his own wards, waiting for the other to speak.  
It still didn't happen. Aggelakis waited a bit with a small smirk (withstanding his glare) and then toasted him. Tom barely wetted his lips with the drink to keep the traditions. _Strong stuff!_ He could definitely appreciate such a drink but not here and now - _he preferred his w_ _its._

The Greek started to speak then.  
“What I did, what I asked for, to that boy –No, that man– is unforgivable. _Ο Θεός να με συγχωρέσει._ (May God forgive me.) If I had known beforehand what it has been done to him I wouldn't have done it.” he took a generous drink.

Tom's magic flared and he used all his control to not shred the other to pieces.  
“You feel up the need to apologise do it to Harry, stop wasting my time.”

The other's shoulders sagged and he appeared tired and older.  
“He won't accept it; he'll state that it was his decision to make.”

That was true enough, Tom gave the barest nod, but he wasn't going to leave it without a strike.  
 _“Ακόμα και αν ο Χάρι δέχονταν την απολογία σου ο Θεός ο ίδιος δε θα το έκανε._ (Even if Harry himself accepted that apology your God wouldn't have.” he said almost pleasantly.

Aggelakis froze.

Tom enjoyed the Greek's shock; this was only the beginning of his revenge for all the times the Drunkard had muttered something uncouth or offensive and he had hidden his reaction to not betray his advantage of knowing the other's language.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

{He had started rather young really, he was only a second year, and already bored out of his mind with the unchallenging curriculum, when he discovered a virtual treasure: a library within the library full of Greek scrolls and manuscripts. It wasn't that surprising truly; Latin wasn't the only one of the spiritual languages and when Hogwarts was build there were over four hundred years until the Byzantine Empire fell on the Ottoman Turks.

It had become his favourite pastime and he had included other languages over the years, not so much the European ones, (although he studied them as well) as they were easily related to each other and still kept the major spells in Latin, but Arabic and the Asian ones. He intended to fully devote into Chinese and Japanese at his fifth year but then he had met Harry and the avalanche had started, he never had the same free time again. Oh, the project was never abandoned; he was merely progressing slower this time.}

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Tom had only half of his attention to the Greek but he missed not a bare second of his spluttering. However it was enraging that while the bastard finally got humiliated it still wasn't enough to humble him.

Even now he just looked at him, not backing down an inch.  
“ _Δε σε συμπαθώ Ριντλ, αλλά χρωσταώ και σε σένα μια απολογία._ (I don't like you Riddle, but I owe you an apology too.)” now that it was apparent he was busted the Greek turned it to his language.

 _“Είσαι αλαζόνας, φαντασμένος, ανήλεος, δόλιος και περιφρονείς όλους όσους θεωρείς κατωτέρους σου, δηλαδή όλο τον κόσμο._ (You are arrogant, conceited, merciless, deceitful, and you look underneath your nose at everyone you consider beneath you, meaning the entire world.)” he took another drink.  
 _“Αλλά σε αδίκησα, ο τρόπος που επέλεξα να σε αντιμετωπίσω δεν ήταν αντρίκιος._ (But I wronged you, the way I chose to deal with you wasn't one befitting men.)” he stopped.

Tom had to take a drink too. This was the first time someone laid it to him like that, completely without feeling and recognizing what he was, not even Dumbledore had ever told him what he thought about him right to his face. Harry shouted at him frequently enough but never all those together and there were certain things lessening the impact. One: he had come from the future, so hadn't found it by himself and Two: he chose to stay with him in spite of it, so it just made it more thrilling. Oh he was going to eventually kill the presumptuous Greek bastard, of that he had no doubt; just needed a moment to regroup, he tied his hands.

 _“Ενδιαφέρον λογύδριο, απλά δεν πολυκαταλαβαίνω το νόημα του_. (Intriguing little speech I just don't really understand your point.) _Υποθέτοντας ότι είμαι ότι ανέφερες ή υπονόησες ποτέ,_ (Assuming that I am everything you say or have ever implied,)” _it was still inadvisable to admit anything outright, to the very least for other legilimensess'.  
_ _“Έχει πραγματική σημασία η μέθοδος χειρισμού;_ (Does the dealing method really counts?)” he was partly curious; the other was fixed in a point at the middle of his nose, but he was a strong enough Occlumens and Tom couldn't force his way inside without direct contact.

Aggelakis laughed harshly.  
“Υποθέτω ότι δεν θα μπορούσες να καταλάβεις, αμφιβάλλω ότι θεωρείς παράγοντα το ότι είσαι στην ηλικία που θα ήταν ο μακαρίτης ο γιος μου. (I suppose that you wouldn't get it, I doubt that you'll ever consider it as factor that you are my late son's age.)”

Tom sneered.  
 _“Δύσκολα, περισσότερο ότι δεν είσαι σε θέση να επικρατήσεις._ (Hardly, more like that wouldn't you be able to take me.)” _he wasn't even boasting here._ _But he definitely wouldn't mind making him share the wretched fate of the worthless worm that had sired him, if the bastard wasn't resourceful enough to be able to get on even with that._

Aggelakis sneered right back.

 _“Είναι αλήθεια, δεν μπορώ να σε φτάσω σε ωμή δύναμη, αλλά αν ήθελα να πεθάνεις θα σε είχα δηλητηριάσει το προηγούμενο καλοκαίρι, ακόμα και συ δεν ήσουν προσεκτικός όλες τις μέρες._ (True enough, I can't match you on raw power, but if I wanted you dead I would have poisoned you the previous summer, you weren't careful all the time.)”

Tom snorted.

_On the contrary he was always careful at any setting or circumstances, (with Harry a possible exception) but if the brain-fart didn't stop prattling about how noble he was for dirty means and explained then he was going to summon the other's own knifes and cut him in pieces the patrons be damned._

Something of his thoughts must have apparent to the other for he started to speak a bit more hurriedly.  
 _“Το Εννοώ,_ (I mean it;)” he allowed their eyes to meet for a bare moment.

 _“Έχω εργαστεί για επτά χρόνια στο ΔΣΜ,_ (I've worked for seven years in the ICW,) _και ήξερα από την πρώτη μάχη, ακριβώς αυτό που είσαι:_ (and I knew ever since the first battle, exactly what you are:) _από επίπεδα ισχύος στην εντελώς αποστασιοποιημένη ιδιοσυγκρασία._ (from power levels to completely detached disposition.)” it was him that sounded detached.

 _“Δε διαφέρεις ιδιαίτερα απ' το Γκρίντελβαλντ και δεν θα είχες σηκώσει δαχτυλάκι για να βοηθήσεις αυτούς που πέθαιναν,_ (You aren't that different from Grindelwald and wouldn't have lifted a finger to help those dying,) _αν ο Χάρι δεν είχε ριχτεί στη μάχη,_ (if Harry hadn't thrown himself into the battle,) _αλλά το έκανες γι'αυτόν όποτε ίσως κάνω λάθος._ (but you did for him so maybe I'm wrong.)” he still looked doubting.

Tom had seen and heard enough.

 _“Κατάλαβα,_ (Oh I see,) _επέλεξες αντίθετα να δέσεις το Χάρι στο άρμα σου ώστε να κάνει αυτός τη βρομοδουλειά σου με το Γκρίντελβαλντ_ (so you instead choose instead to rope Harry into doing your dirty work with Grindelwald) _ακόμα και να τον αναγκάσεις να ακολουθήσει το όραμα σου για το υπόλοιπο της ζωής του,_ (and even force him to follow your light vision for the rest of his life,)” mild reciting.

 _“Χρησιμοποιώντας τη φιλία του καθώς και την ανάγκη του για την κληρονομιά της οικογένειάς σου για να το πετύχεις._ (using his friendship and the need for your family heritage to accomplish it.)” utter deadly calmness.  
 _“Καλοπαιγμένο, κύριε, πολύ καλοπαιγμένο!_ (Well played, _sir_ , well played!)” he started to rise, intending to break the truce and its restrains.

Even with Dumbledore not once getting into the picture it was still case closed for Tom. _There was no debt whatsoever.  
_ It was too public to deal with Aggelakis right now but the next time they'll meet alone he was dead.

Aggelakis did the same looking furious.  
 _“Περίμενε μια στιγμή παιδί, δεν ξέρεις τα πάντα, κάθε άλλο._ (Wait a moment kid; you don't know everything, far from it.) _Θέλεις να κρίνεις, θα ακούσεις τα πάντα._ (You want to judge you'll hear everything.)”

Tom ignored the address.  
 _“Πες μου τα τότε._ (Tell me then.)”  _Oh he still had every intention to kill him but there were certain grey areas in Aggelakis' mind that he hadn't been able to touch and he wanted the information._

The Greek looked grey and old as he sighed deeply and fell heavily back on his seat.

 _“Δεν σου τα είπα όλα πριν._ (I haven't told you everything before.) _Ναι, βεβαιώθηκα για σένα στη μάχη,_ (Yes, I've became sure about you in the battle,) _αλλά δεν ήταν μόνο η εμπειρία μου στο ΔΣΜ που με οδήγησε σε αυτό,_ (but it wasn't only my experience in the ICW that led me to it,) _έχω κληρονομήσει και κάτι από την άυλη οικογενειακή κατάρα επίσης._ (I have inherited something of the intangible family heritage/curse too.)”

Tom couldn't help himself, he leaned forward.  
 _“Πες μου._ (Tell me.)” _alright there was something of the sucker Voldemort still living inside him._

Aggelakis didn't look gloating –not even guilty pleased– about his win, just determined.  
 _“Δεν είμαι προφήτης,_ (I'm not an oracle), _ούτε καν μάντης,_ (not even a seer,) _έχω μόνο την άτυχη τάση να ονειρεύομαι αληθινά._ (I just have the unlucky penchant to dream true.)”

Tom raised an eyebrow. Aggelakis continued, looking grave.

 _“Από τότε που πρωτοσυνάντησα εσάς τους δυο ονειρεύομαι θάνατο και καταστροφές,_ (Ever since I've met you two I have been dreaming of death and destruction,) _τα όνειρα ποικίλλουν ωστόσο,_ (it varies though.) _Μερικές φορές ανέρχεσαι μονός και γίνεσαι πολύ χειρότερος από τον Γκρίντελβαλντ._ (Sometimes you rise alone and become far worse than Grindelwald.)” he breathed deeply.

 _“Άλλες είναι ο Χάρι, ξυπνώντας διπλά στο πτώμα σου,_ (Others it's Harry, waking up beside your dead body,) _τρελαίνεται και σκοτώνει ότι κινείται_ (he goes crazy and kills everything that's moves.)” he didn't have to say any more.

Tom believed him, not only because he could recognize parts of Voldemort's rise, or that the second memory was a literately alternate ending to when he had almost lost Harry, but because what he saw in the other's mind had the clearness of a vision. This wasn't Harry's most painful memory, aided by his worse fears and reconstructed by Aggelakis to deluge him - _it was real-_ he could tell.

 _“Συνέχισε._ (Continue.)” he ordered.  
The other did.

 _“Δεν είναι η χειρότερη περίπτωση,_ (It's not the worst case by far.) _Κατά τις πρώτες περιπτώσεις που εγείρεστε χωριστά κάποιος σας νικάει τελικά._ (In the first ones, when you rise separately someone eventually takes you out.)  
 _Αλλά σε αυτές που τρελαίνεστε μαζί τίποτα δεν μπορεί να σώσει τον κόσμο από εσάς τους δύο,_ (but in those you get crazy together nothing can save the world from you two,) _και η Γη μας τελικά καταλήγει σε μια νεκρή ερημιά, ποτέ να συνέρθει._ (and our Earth eventually ends up a wasteland with nothing alive, never to recover.)”

Tom couldn't say there wasn't something seductive with the latest vision. There was absolutely no constriction –nor rules– binding their behaviour, the entire world was their playground and they were Gods. Harry was magnificent there, like Death incarnate, as they competed. Laughing so delighted and carefree as Tom immolated a continent just to impress him.

He could honesty admit to himself that he would have liked to meet that Harry, even to have him just once, but not keep him. It wasn't only due to the bitter knowledge that his Harry would have preferred to be erased from the entire plane of existence: body mind and soul, not just dead, to avoid such a fate they were facing.

Tom didn't want that.-

It wasn't due to any pity he felt for the masses, never mind compassion. Ants they looked compared to him there, like ants they mattered inside his mind. But what he seemed to have become, what both became, was a very different matter.

 _What had become of his enormous intelligence, his discipline and logic?  
Everything he had been prided on and working at in his entire life?_  
Gone!  
Where were even some small challenges?  
Gone!  
Like savage beasts they were, (like an act of God too) barely intelligent, like Rubeus Hagrid,   
even the Abomination had more meaning.

HE DIDN'T WANT THAT!

The sound and feeling of a glass breaking and embedding into his hand broke his shock, somehow; he vanished the shards from his palm wandlessly, like reflex, and finally became aware of the voice speaking.

“...it doesn't have to be that way,  _παλικάρι μου,_ (lad) I only see possibilities, and I have seen positive futures too. You are together in all of them and definitely not insignificant in the state of things...” Aggelakis had switched it back to English trying to get a response and was awkwardly patting his shoulder.

Tom sent him a mere glance and he flinched.  
“Take your hand away.” he ordered without inflection and almost silently.

Aggelakis did so at once, almost looking ashamed with his reaction. He covered it by returning immediately to the previous point, almost spiting things out.

“Now you understand, you think I wanted to do what I did to Harry... One of my very few true friends in this Godforsaken country? I would have helped him just for the promise to look after Sybil... I only did it to ensure one of the good futures, even if you ended killing each other it would have been a better possibility for the world and Harry...” and so forth.

Tom nearly rolled his eyes.  
 _What was with Light busybodies trying to manipulate the future at their tastes? That one was giving Dumbledore a run for his money...and golden boy dared to complain about his manipulative and despotic streak..._

He asked only a single thing:  
“What's makes you so sure that you didn't just insured the future you fear with the cause and effect basis? Just a possibility.” _but it was a_ _doozy.  
_ He leaned a tiny bit to his chair with a chilling smile and enjoyed the other's spluttering reaction - _That was far more likeable!_

Finally Aggelakis got his wits back enough to offer a coherent reaction.  
“It can't be, Harry is bound by oaths against it.”

Tom's smile was chilliest than the artic.

“Oh but it can, Harry is the oath bound not me, I could just petrify him for however is needed and do the job myself, When everything was over and everybody dead, or faithful ones, I awoke him. Harry's sanity won't hold to such a blow of course and with none tormented or subjugated, no oath, hence the future.” he felt rather better really.

Aggelakis trembled like a leaf and grabbed his arm (and the wand inside his sleeve) ready to cast something deadly. Tom had no fear that he could succeed, (his own amulet protected him) but even if he could goad him to an attack and so spend few weeks in a holding cell or Azkaban, it could still expose his name, not to mention that he was way over tired for such a mess tonight.

“Don't worry about it, I won't do that, I prefer him healthy.” the Greek sent him a gimlet stare but it only amused Tom more.  
“I will be taking my leave of you, goodnight.”

The funny part was that he had managed to take the first part of his revenge too. While Aggelakis had been raving Tom had used the time to analyse the other's amulets. His mother's was obviously the weaker one but he had no influence at all to it and it blocked whatever control he may have at Harry's, but he had found a way. He may need a huge extend of power to overwhelm them, something definitely not public, but if he extended his power subtly something could be done.

Aggelakis had currently dodged the Imperious or an Avada but Tom had subtly inflamed all the health problems the Greek had, including the start of arthritis. He had heard Dippet mentioning once that arthritis could be compared with a constant, slow, low powered, Cruciatus and he couldn't wait to find out if that was true.

_That will teach the Drunkard to get between him and Harry._

Still as he reached the end of their magical bubble and before breaking it he couldn't help a last shot.  
“You are aware of course that when you entrusted Sybil to Harry you entrusted her to me as well?” Aggelakis' face was priceless.

If Tom didn't consider it undignified he would have been laughing in all his way out the tavern.  
 _Time to finally find his half lion half snake._

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

_ **Harry's pov** _

The tepid water whipped Harry's face and body but he hardly fell the pressure or the sometimes sting in his eyes. His mind was busy trying to find a solution, any solution, to fix his mistakes but he really couldn't. He was trapped.

_He had lost Tom!_

He had spent the entire evening and later hours buried in research and refusing to acknowledge what had transpired but, now that was approaching eleven O clock and Tom still hadn't return, had to face that his friend/partner had left him, in all probability forever.

_He had lost Tom forever!_

Harry had seen the final look in his eyes as he left (he had thought that he already knew Tom's indifferent look but he was grievously mistaken) and, no matter how much he wanted to deny it, it was apparent that his partner had already taken his decision and they were over. He was probably going to spend the night at the Cauldron, (Salazar he hoped not!) or Nadia's house, and just order one the guys to collect his trunk for him tomorrow. Or, if he bothered to do it himself, it was going to be just a calculated courtesy towards Dorea.

_It wouldn't do to utterly insult his Light allies after all, he was even going to let him live merely for that reason._

Harry's fists tightened in indignation and despair but, no matter how much he itched to find him and bloody that flawless face, deep down knew that he couldn't blame him for either action or attitude. It wasn't his friend that had changed ever since they became involved it was him.

He had had tried to convince himself all these days 'that their attempt for a relationship was doomed from the start' but he couldn't manage it, he knew Tom better than this. How many times had he swayed him his way by using cunning and persuasion, nothing else?

_If only he had acted like a logical human being instead of an idiot, forcing even the smallest issue had usually explosive conclusions and this... An emotional ultimatum really..? Was he brain-dead or something?_

How could he blame him when, even today, the only apology he could come up with was the same old and (never sure that he could keep it) much-repeated promise that he would try to think before acting, no wonder the other had got fed up with him.

... _Actually he was really surprised that Tom had given these three days in consideration after everything..._

In all probability that calculated answer he had been given today was most likely the remains of Tom's need (or habit) to keep him alive the last years, he couldn't really blame him even for this.

_How many people wouldn't get bored and detach repeating the same thing again and again, never mind a psychopath?  
_ _Seeing him die or almost dying over and over logically had the same effect on Tom._

Harry had done everything in his power (consciously and unconsciously) to sabotage their relationship - _why had he done such a thing?_  
If it was a struggle to get rid of the other's dominance he could accept it on himself, maybe even forgive it in time, but it wasn't.

Tom wasn't more authoritative, demanding, or manipulative as his lover rather than his best friend. In everything that counted they were exactly the same except some moments of rare tenderness, a bit more openness, and sexual intimacy. Harry hated neither of those (if he was honest with himself he treasured them) and if pressured he could sincerely admit that those days he was together with Tom were the happiest ones of his life.

(Even in this moment, alone –sealed within himself– he couldn't bear to linger at those days.) _Why had he destroyed that happiness then?  
Was he so afraid to be happy?_

He couldn't find an answer to this except that Tom was right and he was a masochist.   
_(If only it was the easy kind and he just enjoyed a bit of pain with his pleasure)  
_ There was no other explanation for the situation he found himself.

_It was time to face that as well, he couldn't afford not to do it._

Harry still wasn't regretting the protection he had afforded to his friends and never would, but the raw fact remained that he had destroyed himself in the process. The end of his relationship/friendship with Tom was merely the start. Even if Grindelwald didn't kill him, the future that awaited him was still bleak.

His life was over if he was honest, what awaited him now was merely to exist. Harry had to leave his friends and family behind to not endanger them, making sure to not make more for the same reason. To face dark lord after dark lord until one killed him, if the madness didn't caught up with him first, making him too dangerous to be around.

 _To exist for nothing but to hold those oaths._ He couldn't help an intense shudder of revulsion.

This life embodied everything he had hated in living his life as 'the boy who lived' a hundred times over and he had volunteered for it with both feet. - _No wonder that Tom had dropped him, he was smarter than this._ But it was his choice and he was going to live with it no matter what.

 _If only he could avoid the madness at least._ But he wasn't going to condemn Tom to save himself; he cared too much for it. _(and respected himself at least that much)_ He couldn't really find a silver lining in any of those, even his research had gone for nothing.  
 _Oh, he had found the ritual and he could do it!_

The problem was that one of the components was sexual intimacy, preferably fresh, and from what he had gathered from the insinuation on the text that meant going all the way not merely fooling around.

So unless he was mistaken –and by Salazar he hoped so– the only hope he had to put himself and Tom out of the game (if need to be) had just immolated. He rested his forehead at the cold tile.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

  _ **Tom's pov**_

Tom apparated inside the Potter manor easy like always. Still he didn't miss the tiny fresh ward and so wasn't surprised to find the lady of the house waiting for him at the family floor.  
“Welcome back, Tom.”

Dorea had played it the perfect hostess so far and had even accepted his interference inside her house, but he knew she was neither pliant nor easygoing as she appeared. Tom in turn had been somewhat relaxed with his masks too, but that didn't mean that he was going to become sloppy with his manners as well.

He took a half contrite expression.  
“Good evening, Lady Dorea, I apologise for my lateness, I'll try not happen again.” he smiled, playing it sheepish.

She smiled back.  
“It's alright, Tom, and its Dorea remember.”

He relaxed his posture.  
“I do. Good night, Dorea.”

“Good night Tom.” they turned, each to their respectable room, but Tom had taken the message loud and clear:  
'So long he treated Harry right Dorea would consider him family but if he ever irrevocably hurt him (never mind kill) then he should be careful at what he ate for the rest of his life.'He took the matter very seriously, noting to self to kill her too if he decided to kill Harry.

The room was empty but Tom could lightly sense Harry at the bathroom so he got rid of his shoes, tie, and robe, making himself more comfortable, as he waited. Still, his patience lasted only five minutes or so and he started tapping on the link to make him hurry. Harry was so closed inside himself that he didn't even noticed and Tom started to dig dipper. The enormous well of anguish and despair that he found alarmed him as it reminded him – _all too well–_ both the previous crisis and his morbid prediction that Harry would prefer to die than live with the madness.

 _He had to investigate at once. The idiot could be opening his very veins right this moment.  
_ This time he didn't bothered with courtesies at all. _Nice was for other people._

Harry was proved _–_ _thankfully–_ alright and ready to murder him if he judged by the look in his eyes. But it was exactly those eyes that caught his breath as he realised how reddish and swollen they were.

Harry could excuse it to the shower if he wanted but Tom finally knew how much his breaking up had hurt the other.  
 _His idiotic partner didn't just break by nearly anything._

Said partner covered things at once, of course, and had a smart quip ready for him. But, just this occasion, Tom's attention was diverted and he allowed himself to notice other things than merely his lover's sharp mind. Tom admired everything he saw, from the economical and pleasantly put clean lines, the, thankfully spare, hair on his chest and treasure trail, (much denser downwards) his proud stance, the, for once, heavy and so half-tamed dark hair and those stunning eyes. 

Harry had filled out nicely in all those years. There were hints of the waif he had been, as he was still relatively short and there was absolutely nothing excess on him, just tendons and lean hard muscle. But it was fitting him oh so fitting! His partner looked dangerous like a lean wolf _–was dangerous–_ like the true warrior he was. Only one thing was missing from his body to look perfect and Tom found himself longing to fix that.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

_ **Harry's pov** _

It was at the moment that Harry allowed himself to mourn everything he had lost (past and new) that the curtain of his shower was violently pulled, almost ripped from its hinges.  
He didn't even need to turn to know it was Tom. He smiled mirthlessly.

“What, you decided to act out that scene from Psycho?”

Tom didn't even bother with an answer; he was immersed in appraising hungrily his form and didn't seem to perceive anything else. His predatory stepping into the shower, as he was with his clothes, had destroyed any illusions for his intentions that Harry may have.

Harry, despite the heavy lump logged in his throat, used that bare instant to think. He knew Tom all too well and he could bet that his apparent amorous intentions had nothing to do with reconciliation and everything, now that they were over, with ridding himself of the carnal part of his obsession. He had no intention to stop at foreplay anymore.

He knew that it was decision time. Harry could follow with his actual impulse and bust Tom's face, or he could give in and gain that advantage he was aiming for, any chance for the bonding was lost anyway.

Still, even at the moment that Tom pulled him against him and he fought him briefly for appearance's sake, he knew that, while his calculated surrender had a taste of defeat, he would have given in anyway.

_If that was his last time with Tom he wanted it._

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

_ **Tom's pov** _

Tom managed to trap Harry against the tiles for all his slipperiness. (and a few uncouth kicks since he immobilised his arms) Still, for all his resistance (but no vocal, or otherwise, protests) he didn't denied him his kisses (he definitely didn't mind a few bites, it just reminded him of their first time) and it didn't take all that long to have him moan against his lips with Harry's hands buried in his hair.

Even that compliance wasn't enough for Tom.  
He wanted to hear more of those moans, and at an even more intense volume and depth, to make Harry totally melt in his arms, losing any and all thoughts to resist.

_His idiot was entirely his and was going to stay that way, no matter what harebrained things he did to fight it. Later he may come to express this verbally, if he felt like it, now it was time for him to prove it._

His hand closing around Harry's hardness and teasing him to frenzy seemed to have the desired effect and he shuddered in reflected pleasure and pride as he felt him coming apart in his hands.

The offered tempting neck was an added bonus and he gladly set to feast and mark it to his heart's content.   
But his Harry never surrendered completely no matter what.  
Soon his hands were fighting with his shirt for a chance to do his own kissing and touching. He didn't have much of a success.

Now whether his lover was clumsy from passion or the buttonholes were just too tight on the soaked cloth mattered none; Harry didn't have the patience to work for it. A sharp tug and the shirt was opened, with all the buttons broken away in the progress.

Tom, quite naturally, wasn't happy with this. _(the shot of intensified arousal notwithstanding)_ It was Harry's turn to drew his head down and mute his complain with his lips and it wasn't long until he migrated to his neck and the recently freed territories.

It was only when those hands started playing with the zip of his trousers and the hidden bulge that Tom's eyes flashed and he decided that enough was enough.

_If Harry couldn't stand to just accept things, for once, then he could certainly do something more challenging. He owed him an apology after all and he remembered clearly a previous apology given in comparative terms, although innocently intended._

His hands closed none too gently on Harry's shoulders and he pressured down nearly but not quite harshly. Harry obviously resisted once again.  
“What?” he sounded pissed, although Tom recognised the hidden nerves.

He smiled, it wasn't sweet.  
“Why darling, I'm owed an apology and you appear already interested in the area, considering that your verbal skills are lacking anyway...”

Putting it like that had Harry at a loss and blushing like a tomato. Tom was honestly surprised that he had blood spared to maintain an erection, but the aforementioned delightful anatomy didn't seem to suffer...

_...Oh, on the contrary..._

Still the embarrassment didn't last on his Harry, his eyes narrowed to slits and he had the answer ready.  
“Really, as far I remember the apology was given and you denied it.”

Tom wasn't going to reflect on that emotional moment, he smirked.  
“What can I say, I prefer payment in kind, but if you are uncomfortable...” he let it hang.

The embarrassment returned on Harry ten times over, he momentarily looked down.  
“Tom, I...” he stopped.

Tom didn't need translation even if they didn't share that link.  
 _Of course Harry hadn't done it before, even if he had been interested beforehand, which he hadn't, Tom would have crucied to death anyone daring to think it, never mind asking._

He stroked softly Harry's lips.  
“Only if you want it, now and always the choice is yours.”

Something soft and wicked passed Harry's eyes and he smiled at him in that familiar the devil may care way.  
“Salazar may help you, then.” with those words he fell gracefully on one knee.

One more button was again sacrificed but this time Tom didn't have the breath, never mind wits, to complain about it.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

  _ **Harry's pov**_

Harry was trembling by tension but it wasn't shown in his face as he knelt down. He honestly had no idea how to go about this but it wasn't going to stop him. It wasn't because he believed that Tom was going to forgive his mistakes if he did, on the contrary he was going to be very cross if it was the case.

Tom had put him through the wriggler but if he decided to keep him cause of sexual favours it would be alike adding insult to injury.  
 _..._ _T_ _here was oversimplifying their relationship and there was literally spiting on it..._

Still Harry wasn't going to back down to this for various reasons.  
One _of them was the simple fact that he wanted it._

Ever since his sexuality had awoken with a bang he had been longing to take his time and taste Tom everywhere _. (Well he longed for other things too but they didn't count at present)_ The root of his lover's desire was definitely not the exception to this. He was bashful but not repulsed, indisputably not repulsed.

The other part urging him on was that Tom had challenged him to it and he wasn't going to back down, not ever. _Oh the bastard definitely didn't deserve it and he had a feeling that was going to get a very different response in reversed tables but, after the things he had met head on, it seemed a fairly ridiculous thing to balk._

Still doing it was very different than thinking about it and as he opened Tom's pants, shoving them aside, he felt a very real tremor of desire. He had felt Tom's hardness against his body before, even held it, but never like this, so self consciously. This time he wasn't too overwhelmed to pay attention.

He could feel the hot-steely flesh quivering in his hands as he got closer and that quiver transferred and in the rest of the body as his lips closed around the silken head. For a moment he felt something like disorientation as he forgot to breathe and had to tilt his head back for a couple seconds.

He expected to see a superior smirk to the other's face but to his utter surprise it was anything but. They were rare (not even counted in one hand) the times he had seen such an open expression at Tom's face, it wasn't a trick either, their link was resonating with the intensity of the feelings.

Harry closed his eyes and, returning to his tender exploration, got lost in the taste, sound, and smell. He even tried to take him deeper but his breath was again cut and he retreated. This got him Tom's hands entangled in his hair. It was almost unpleasantly painful and he expected him to force him to take him again deeper but, much to his surprise, he just held for dear life.

Harry moaned with the rush of power and the intense arousal that came with it. He was entirely sure that his lover had started this as a dominance game but it had been toppled. Tom may sent him away afterwards, could even belittle him, but now –right this minute– he was entirely his, body mind and soul.

 _He never wanted that moment to end.  
_ But ended it did...

Tom didn't last too long after that, just four or five small thrusts, and his mouth was full with salty and bitter sperm. There was nothing particularly pleasant about this, (it was faintly reminiscent of the things the Dursleys voluntarily fed him) but he would gladly abide with said taste, again and again, for the feeling of ownership it was giving him.

On the other hand Harry was also frustrated, to the point of near screaming, or murdering. He had been just about there too, but the utter filthy bastard chose literally the last moment to retry in himself, cutting him out for the very first time, he hated him.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

_ **Tom's pov** _

_Tom was loosing it, there wasn't another description._  
He was leaning against the wall, trying to get back his breath and mind, but he wasn't sure that he could manage it either.

He had started this as a means to get back some of the power that Harry had over him. _(What else would you call his contemplation to forgive him literally anything and always reconsidering leaving him behind?)_

_But how the bloody hell was he to anticipate this?_

In his whole life, both at Hogwarts and the orphanage, he had heard descriptions of the act (and even glimpsed thoughts about it) as something crude and demoting. He had cut such talks the moment he got power, of course, as he found the topic both plebeian and disinteresting, but the impression had stayed.

_The pose in itself was a submissive one for Salazar's sake!  
Yet he couldn't have been more mistaken; his whole existence got shaken with this!_

It wasn't just the unbearable pleasure, - _nearly as immense in intensity as their joined one at the first time-_ or the deadly sweetness that sapped entirely his control and had gotten him on such a state.

He still wasn't sure what it had done it, or even what it was. Only that it was embodied at Harry's look, as he was doing it, and that it had turned his world upside down.

He knew that Harry was angry with him, to the point of wanting to hit him, and yet loved him, wanted him, enough – _even now–_ that he took pleasure by giving him pleasure. It was that intensity that he couldn't stand anymore and had reflexively closed off.  
 _He didn't think he could stand it in its completeness._

A wave of neediness hit him and the sound of flesh to flesh drew him to the real world.   
_Harry._ His partner was searching for the release he had denied him.

Tom couldn't stand even that – _for Harry to finish alone after everything._ He needed tangible proof that such intensity could happen, as even now the earthquake was fading from his senses, becoming merely a memory and he needed – _Salazar he needed–_ to have the same devastating effect on his Harry as he had on him.

He didn't even need to think on how to go about it.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

_ **Harry's pov** _

Harry didn't manage to find relief by himself, Tom didn't let him. A sudden sharp pull to his arm and he was in Tom's arms, kissed until he was sure he was dying. Tom didn't seem to have gotten back on earth yet, totally engrossed as he was to thoroughly plunder his mouth, like as if wanting to immerse himself in his very own taste.

It wasn't the only thing that was driving him crazy here.

Tom hadn't bothered with crouching down to kiss him this time; he just grabbed him in, holding him against his body. His hands – _those brilliant, damnable, long fingered hands–_ weren't just holding him up but kneaded firmly his buttocks in time with the pillage.

It was Harry's turn to hold for dear life.

He wasn't even sure that he could survive this. The pleasure was getting beyond intense but Tom wasn't even letting him rub against his belly, he couldn't bear it. But, exactly as the madness became a near fact and he started unravelling, with the sexual frustration approaching agony, one of Tom's slim long digits found its way inside.

Harry lost contact with reality.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

When Harry became aware again of his environment his feet were thankfully touching down,  _the little good it did to him,_ and Tom was still holding him against his chest muttering:  
**“** **Mine, Gods, mine!”**

At any other circumstances this would have been really comforting (even arousing) to him, unfortunately the only thing that Harry could think about right now (and panic) was that this wasn't guesswork anymore: _Tom really intended to fuck him tonight._

His partner though wasn't much for emotional moments – _if he couldn't underplay them or excuse it for sleepiness–_ (well him too) and he shoved him unceremoniously aside (although gentle) and reheated the water for them to clean up.

That being done he kicked away his soaked trousers and pants and offered his hand with a smirk.  
“Coming to bed?”

Harry froze, his panic surging up even more. He had no idea what to do regarding this as, if he indeed followed him to their bed, he had no doubt at how it was going to end, even if he woke up again alone in the morning.

While the idea, of never having to hurt Tom no matter what, was as wildly attractive and relieving as when he allowed this encounter part of Harry couldn't stand it. It wasn't just the 'going all the way' jitters that upset his stomach but the fact that he didn't really want to use Tom, even for this.

It was idiotic and gryffindorish of him but he didn't want to bed Tom with false pretences, even if was for their own good. If that was going to be their first (and probably last) time then Harry wanted to have something honest and true to remember, not to coerce Tom into a powerful ritual he had no way to fight.

 _And being unaware of it counted very much as giving no consent at Harry's book._ He had lost Tom by getting behind his back; he didn't want to repeat it, even if this time – _that was_ _the mistake._

Taking a fortifying breath he regarded Tom.  
“Wait.” he was thankful it came out calm.

Tom tilted his head and examined him.  
“What's wrong? You are more anxious than you were letting on.”

This time Harry didn't allow himself any outward sign.  
“If we are going to bed then you need to know something first.”

Tom took him seriously, not that he was the type to joke at such matters.  
“Tell me.”

Harry didn't gulp.  
“If we go all the way tonight, or any other night, I'm going to use it on a ritual...”

Tom didn't even let him fully explain; he had them dry with a gesture and grabbed him, leading him forcefully back to the room and all but throwing him into the bed.  
“Speak.”

Harry was beyond unimpressed with Tom playing the nude drill sergeant, almost right to his face too. _Jerk!_  
“Hey, let me put something on me first, you better do it too for that matter.”

Tom tsked.  
“What are you a wizard for nothing?” he raised the room's temperature and banished Harry's clothes, even his trunk.

Harry tried to get up; Tom didn't let him and, casting a shield, got his called wand to fall down a metre away.  
“Where did you take them? Bring them back.” the last part an order.

The jerk in question just smirked.  
“Darling relax, they are with Leonard's recovered artefacts. I will give them back after we'll finish this.”

Harry was too emotionally tense to get angry with such a childish act; he sighed and just sent his wand back to the desk.  
“It's going to be a long talk.”

Tom looked faintly alarmed with his easy compliance but still smug.

“I don't mind, you are surprisingly more open when nude and there is little chance that you'll try to escape the talk starkers.” another smirk, even more conceited than the previous one.   
“But if the view is getting too distracting, I can get dressed myself.”

Harry didn't grace this even with looking upset and his instant reply:  
“Smug bastard!” was beyond heartfelt.

He got a flash of anger for his profanity but Tom didn't bother to correct him, knowing that it could sidetrack things even more.   
It looked like his patience was waning.  
“Tell me about the ritual and how it concern us?”

_Definitely waning._

Harry steeled himself -  _the moment of truth.  
_ “Do you recall what professor Merrythought had told us about Nimue? Well she was honest, there is indeed a ritual.”

Tom's brow furrowed in puzzlement, if not actual disbelief.  
“Really? I searched the entire restricted section out of curiosity and there wasn't even a source, never mind details about it.” his answer was still entirely academic like the whole matter had absolutely nothing to do with them.

Harry found in himself a fond smile.  
“Yeah, but Hogwarts' library it's not the only one in the country, or even the most updated one, there is and the one in the Department of Mysteries.”

Tom made an impatient gesture.  
“I still don't see the reference to us regarding right now?”

 _O_ _h he was getting it, there was no chance he didn't, but he was playing with him, wanting to make him say it, the utter, utter, prat.  
_ Harry gritted his teeth, _it was time.  
_ “One of the ritual's components is sex, actual sex between the participants, not just foreplay, but it doesn't need to happen immediately beforehand.”

_H_ _e said it, it was done._

Tom stilled and his whole body stiffened as a board.  
“Show me your notes.”

Another hidden sigh and shoving Tom gently aside Harry got on his feet; this time his partner didn't fight him.   
_Everything was going to be over soon.  
Thankfully Tom hadn't banished his satchel too; it would have been very awkward to bring it back at this point_.

He opened the book at the desk.  
“Here.”

“They allow you to borrow books from the Department of Mysteries?” Tom sounded both incredulous and furious by this, as he approached.  
“What kind of snare has this man for you?” he started reading.

Harry couldn't help a bitter laugh. He couldn't believe that Tom got to think that right now.  
“It was in the historical section, obviously they consider it harmless, and you better hope that the Chief's favour will remain, I really need it.” the last part was openly snippy but it got no instant reaction.

He would have preferred to be on the other side of the room, not standing next to Tom, at that moment. But his pride didn't let him move an inch. He was going to face his second, even more humiliating, rejection for the day with his head held high, at least until Tom was out the door. - _I_ _t wasn't going to take too long anyway._

 _Well that, or he could end moved enough to stay tonight_ , but Harry wasn't holding any breath.

He wondered again why he chose to speak instead of letting things progress their natural way but he knew that if it really came to this he preferred to face Tom in the field of battle than coerce him in any way against his will.

_Still even that didn't mean that he had to kill him, there was still the slim chance that everything they had done together was already sufficient for the ritual's terms and even if it wasn't he was finally educated enough in Dark Arts to attempt petrifying Tom by himself, without a basilisk's gaze, nothing was yet set in stone._

_There was hope yet._

* * *

~*~

* * *

_ **Tom's pov** _

Tom was leaning his weigh on the book to hide his tremor, as he was still pretending to read. He was breathing in and out very carefully, needing to keep his reactions deep inside, and even the link was kept closed at all costs.  _He had been led into one emotional breakthrough already tonight and his cheeks still burned from that. His partner didn't need to know what else he had done him (and how strong it was) quite yet._

_Harry had really done it again!_

He had been already halfway ready to just accept him back (not completely without resentment mind) on the mere grounds that he had suffered, (and loved him) which he really didn't want to try examine why he found it a sufficient cause, but his damnable half lion had surprised him once more.

He had already a faint idea the moment that Harry mentioned a ritual but his mind couldn't compute what it was proposed and had made him tell him just to be sure he had understood. His indomitable partner hadn't, as he believed, given up to them but had bended himself in all the ways he could, without breaking, to find a compromise he could live with.

_Never ever to hurt him but never really allowing him to turn into a power mad tyrant either._

That by itself was unbelievable (he had to check the ritual to be sure that it genuine and not a trap) and yet it was only half of the equation that had left Tom speechless with emotions he couldn't even trace, never mind name, or deal with.

His crazy Gryffindor (for there was nothing even remotely Slytherin regarding this) had just found a solution against all odds. But instead of hiding it, to ensure it could have a chance to happen, (never mind that Tom had no intention to go that route tonight) Harry had handed that vital final trick right to him, together with the choice.

_This wasn't an offered compromise or a hidden threat but the presentation of the entire pack of cards, neck and heart bare._

Tom would never have forgiven him of course, if he had acted on it, but it could hardly matter too if things were at that stage. The ritual worked fast, as he had read, he wouldn't have time for even a curse before succumbing to sleep right into Harry's embrace.

_And he had given up that advantage?_

So he was bewildered to the very least; there was nothing in Tom's outlying acquaintance with emotion (mostly through Harry) or his logic that could explain his partner's reasoning to this: He really gained nothing!

_Not for a second chance with him, (as he still didn't know) or something he could even use as a returned favour, but merely on a very vague hope that he could go along with him, before sending him his way, and the even more dubious pleasure of a sexual act that he maybe wasn't yet ready for, or even particularly wanted._

_All of it to let him know?!  
_ It was really no wonder that he had brought him in such a state!

A deep inhaled breath trying to think…

_Hadn't Harry understood that if he was in a barely different frame of mind he would have shredded him with a couple well placed words or even treat him like dirt even if he conceded?_

_He had, he still did..._

Tom didn't need to turn and see Harry to read his tension. He knew that he was standing ramrod straight, like if he was facing his execution, with his swollen, reddened, lips almost whitened into a single line. Even his side of the closed link felt very alike a boiling cauldron.

 _...and yet he had chosen to do this with his eyes wide open and his sanity intact..?  
_ Of course he did!

_Maybe he was expecting those two words to cauterize the separation hurt so that he could leave more or less emotionally intact?_

But Tom knew that this way of thinking was a mistake too.  
Harry had put too much effort to his research to be merely a gamble.  
He chose to go this route driven by love, respect for him, and trust.

Because, deep down, Harry really trust him, still trusted him.  
 _Even after everything,_ it wasn't a weakness to him _.  
He had chosen him above all others. _

_Harry's devotion may come with some specific parameters but inside said parameters it was all encompassing and absolute.  
Because that was Harry! _

Tom decided to trust Harry right back.  
He knew perfectly well that his partner must have and another plan somewhere – _he would never believe otherwise,  
_ but he simply choose to not care or ask.

It wasn't going to come to that anyway, the matter was finally closed.  
 _It was time to take matters into his own hands._

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

If Tom was a man given into uncontrollable emotional outbursts, or even the least bit romantic, he would have kissed Harry to delirium over that realization, maybe even laid him over the desk to continue on from where they had left it. But his partner was currently emotionally closed off and would have taken it the wrong way without notice.

The infernal problem was either going to just lie there, as a martyr, or respond with the ferociousness of a man condemned. Neither was going to do, Tom was going to kill people in such a case.

_He needed something subtler here._

He closed the heavy book with a bang, unfortunately not startling a reaction out of Harry...  
\- _he doubted that anything could cause that right now though.  
It was time for the games to begin._

“Why would you need so much Bones' _favour,_ or even at all?” he intoned the word favour with distaste.  
Harry – _finally predictably–_ was incredulous.

“You ask me that now?” he took a deep breath centring himself.  
“Instant employment for one, if you want to know, but it's really none of your business.” his voice was quiet but held the stirrings of cold anger.

Tom wasn't pleased at all with this and kind of stunned _.  
Instant employment? _ That meant that Harry intended to leave Hogwarts.   
_Inconceivable!_

 _Then again he should have expected that he would resume that ludicrous idea but at least, this time, he didn't have plans for something drastic.  
_ “You have no need to leave the school, much less financial problems. I have a good nest egg saved up, enough for a flat and to keep us comfortably afloat for a few years.” he expected to drew, even a tiny bit, Harry's curiosity, or at least surprise.

Harry didn't even bat an eye.  
“Good for you, but it has absolutely nothing to do with me.” he grabbed his wand and recalled his things, turning towards that direction.

Tom cut him on the way.  
“Of course it does, everything I have, or will ever have, is yours too.” he meant it.

This time Harry scoffed.  
“Yeah right, let me go now.” he tried to sidestep him.

Tom blocked him again, and again, and again, while he carefully made no attacking move and ignored the downright sarcasm,   
shoving down his unease.  
 _Harry had put him above everything, he wouldn't drop him now._

Finally his partner lost his patience.  
“Tom move. I had it with your game.” his voice was carefully controlled and he held his wand in a tight grip.

Tom didn't budge an inch, just opened his arms to remind he was unarmed.  
“No game.”

“Tom move.” this time it came out a rough order and Harry's wand dug harshly against his neck.

Tom still didn't move, making not the slightest attempt to protect himself. He knew of course that was currently taking a risk, that his partner could simply fire a stunner, (if not something far worse) as he wasn't in the habit to curse unarmed, but was counting on Harry to go for a punch as he could definitely calm him down after a brawl.

“Lower, to the chest, you know the place. Go for a reducto.” he taunted.  
(Somewhere inside he knew that he deserved the incoming punches but Harry wasn't going to hear it from him.)

The mad glint in his partner's eyes and the slowly lowering wand made him wonder if he misjudged, and Harry was indeed going to kill him,   
but the hissy word eased his soul.  
 **“** **Bastard.”** Tom knew then that he had won, it was going to take a while and it wasn't yet certain, but the first dam had already fall.

He moved closer, finally almost touching him.  
 **“** **Don't be crass, sweetheart, it really doesn't fit you,”** he answered in the same language. “... **and of course it's my business.”** their breaths were mingling.

 **“** **Everything you do, or is happening to you, your every breath, it's my own very...personal** **...** **business.”** he started tracing the line from the hollow of Harry's neck to the start of his treasure trail, going back and forth with each word.

Harry seized his hand, crushing it against his chest.  
“Tom!” it didn't sound particularly angry.

He saw the green irises darken with desire, felt the wand lower even more and prepared,   
while he outwardly revelled to the other's touch, closing his eyes.  
 _It was way too soon for surrender._

He surprised Harry by using the mark to relax his fingers at the last possible moment, and levitating the wand away.   
But he barely avoided his partner's punch, and they were again circling each other like predators.

Harry glared daggers finally dropping the act.  
“Damn you.”

Tom nearly laughed.  
“What, you expected something different?” he taunted, dogging another punch, and another, not once returning them.  
“Do you really want to make it a full out duel?” he finally asked.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise, for the changed pattern, but he didn't lose his footing. Nonetheless he hesitated.  
“No, not really, it won't help much.” he looked and sounded tired.“But I'm really not your concern anymore, not after today, I'm just a horcrux remember?” he added stubbornly, but the mere fact that he reopened the talk was a concession by itself.

Tom wanted to point out that there wasn't anything more personal than a horcrux but refrained. Harry still responded to him, emotionally or otherwise, but it was such a sensitive point that it could really destroy the fragile truce.

 _Not that he was going to completely drop it.  
_ “Really, then what's with the warm welcome I'd received?” he smirked.

Harry blushed scarlet and couldn't temporarily meet his eyes, but his voice was steady as he answered.  
“You know the answer to this.” he had the nerve to indicate the book.

Tom's lips thinned, this was a strike he hadn't expected from his lover. Still he managed to stay calm; this wasn't a game he intended to lose.  
“Really darling **,** that's only?” he challenged in his most sweet-dangerous voice as he stepped forward.

Harry didn't heed the warning; he squared his shoulders and stayed in place.  
“Yeah, the offer is still open. You can have me tonight, sleep on it and decide tomorrow, or bugger off. That's about it.” he sounded cold in the beginning but the certainty didn't last all the way to the end for all the profanity.

Tom grasped his chin forcing Harry to look up.  
 **“** **You mean you touched and tasted me with such** **sweet** **abandon due to only calculation** **in** **your mind?”** he caressed Harry's lips with his breath.  **“** **Then why are you still trembling and your body burns to my simplest touch?”** he was far from unaffected himself.

Something like indecision passed from Harry's eyes but it lasted less than a moment and he arched his body against Tom's.  
 **“** **Yes, but I want you too, we want the same thing, let it go.”** the last part almost a plea.

 _It wasn't enough; it wasn't nowhere near close to enough_.

Tom shoved Harry slightly back and smirked.  
“Hardly the same, you know I'll never be content with a single night.” he stroked his cheek.

Harry's eyes fluttered closed and leaned to the caress, just for a moment, but his expression was dead serious.  
“Yes, but how long until then? Will it be tomorrow, the day after? How many days until you change your mind once again?”

Tom crossed his arms thoroughly unimpressed - _if Harry expected a love confession he wasn't going to get it._

“Yes, that's about it, hormones!” he mocks him.“That's the reason you clutched my hand, right above your heart, a couple minutes ago, that's the reason I'm here.” _he didn't even need to add how little those hormones had affected them before, they both knew it._

Harry didn't even flinch, but regarded him candidly.  
“You are right it's not about hormones, or arranging things. But for whether the reason it's entirely my problem.” he told him with dignity.

 _Like hell was Tom to accept that.  
_ “Do you really think that I'll ever leave you after seeing this?” he pointed at the book.

There was something like wonder then but it got shoved under disbelief very fast.  
“Maybe you will hold until the next crisis.” dryly.

Sometimes Harry's stubbornness got right to his nerves, Tom foregone his self promise for patience, and headed for the jugular.  
He crushingly griped Harry's left hand, raising it exactly under his lover's eyes.

“Think again, sweetheart, we are far from over. You are still wearing my ring and I yours. Just try to pull it out, not even in death its going to happen. You are mine and I'm yours.”

The disbelief remained, Harry just shock his head.

Tom decided to gamble everything.  
“Alright, you want us to go all the way tonight, we'll do it. Properly, with the bonding ceremony.”

The silence was deafening.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

  _ **Harry's pov**_

Harry was beyond shaken.  
“Are you out of your bloody mind?” he nearly screamed, snatching his hand away.

Tom didn't even bother to hide his smirk.  
“I can assure you I'm in perfect mental health.”

Harry snorted.  
“Now I believed you,” he looked at him calculatingly, “that, or you are again going for an emotional blackmail. Do you really think that I'd fall for nearly the same trick?”

Tom sent him a look.  
“There is no trick, then or now; I have no intention to back off in this.”

Harry examined him trying to guess the truth, his own face becoming dead serious.  
“Honestly Tom, on how much of the bonding ritual are you a hundred percent sure about?”

Tom's answer was succinct.  
“Three quartets of the rune array.”

Harry didn't know if he was getting closer to hyperventilation or to laugh, he definitely didn't expect such an honest answer.  
“Salazar! And you want me to believe that you really wish to go ahead with that now? Pull the other one.”

Weirdly, Tom didn't look offended, this time he was gifted an actual smile.  
“You asked me on what I'm sure about, not the things I can approximately estimate.” a smug one.

Just like that Harry wanted to hit Tom again.  
“I get it.”

The smile wasn't drop.  
“My my, Harry, isn't that just the way you do things, with a wind and a prayer?” it was mocking and not.

This, he really couldn't stand it any more and tried to shove Tom away.  
His partner (the annoying prick) didn't move an inch.  
(his hands lingered there anyway)

“I said I get it alright, I fucking get it, and I apologised too. I may be stupid regarding my safety, but I'm not going to risk you!” his voice rising again in his near panic.  
 _He was a hypocrite, so be it._

The look on Tom's face was way too pleased, and for all of it seductive, to be healthy.

“Why my love, everything that is good enough for you it's the same for me. Anyway I believe that with your luck we have more than a decent chance for successful conclusion.” his hands closed on Harry's shoulders, not crushing him against him, but still imprisoning him and forcing him to look up.

Harry was starting to really consider capitulating just to see how far Tom intended it to go, but the bastard was obstinate enough to really do it.  
“Tom, stop torturing me!” he didn't utter the word please though.

It hardly mattered; Tom regarded him as if he had shouted it, head tilted to the side, eyes darkened, and a chilling smile pining him down.  
“Really, sweetheart, torturing you?” his voice was melodic with amusement and one hand started stroking his arm.“You, of all people, know me better to confuse a bit of teasing with actual torture.” he had the nerve to playfully tug at his hair too.

Harry bit harshly his lips, to keep impassive. He wasn't going to admit it on Tom but he definitely disagreed.

_To have exactly what he wanted to (the very thing he fought admitting of wanting) offered into a silver platter and for him to be forced to deny it, worse having it confirmed that it hadn't been offered at all in the first place..._

That for him was almost worse than Cruciatus.

His voice was light to not show his hurt.  
“So you admit it was just a tease?” he didn't move away for the same reason.

Tom sent him a strange look underneath his lashes, his lips curling just so.  
“Oh, I meant it alright, but you made me a request and I just stated the terms to grand it.”

Harry was frankly blindsided with that left turn and his mouth literally hung open.  
“What the hell does that mean?” he spluttered, finally fighting to move away from the other's clutches.

Tom's hands steeled against his shoulders, keeping him there, and there was nothing even close to humour anymore to his face.

“It means that I don't even understand why you insist for us to have full sex tonight but I'm done playing on that matter.”  
a look, both smouldering and hard.  
“I'm shouldering my half of the responsibility to this mess. I'm not going to let you destroy yourself – _destroy us–_ just because you feel like being a martyr.”

A breath, deeper than the others.  
“I'm not leaving.”

Harry was speechless for a few moments and frankly shocked with the resolve to the other's intense eyes and the conveyed emotion.   
_Tom loved him and had truly forgiven him!  
_ Not only did he mean it but he was leaving their link wide open on his part, something he never expected to have again, never mind to that extent.

His own hands closed around Tom's wrists and he straightened his body.  
“I truly have no intention to hurt you if I can help it, so...”

Tom didn't let him finish, his hands lowered from his shoulders to his arms with excruciating force -definitely leaving marks- and started shaking him.  
“You aren't going to give up on everything, do you hear me?” he snarled.

Harry met his eyes again, dropping his own shields; he smiled,

“As I said I'm not going to risk you, if I can help it, so we are going to have the bonding at its rightful time.” his hands caressed up Tom's arms, all the way to the biceps, and then squeezed them in a warrior's gesture.  
“If you aren't leaving, neither am I.”

Tom returned it and drew him into a punishing kiss. Harry didn't mind, he had missed those too.

“I'm going to hurt you again,” was murmured against his lips, “to exasperate and distress you, boss you around, maybe even make you bleed, but I'm never ever going to leave you, or let you leave me again.” each word a kiss.

“I know, I know.” Harry murmured right back, between kisses, and clutching him against his chest with his entire strength. Somewhere inside he knew that those words weren't exactly reassuring, but he hardly cared, he had Tom back – _for real!_

When they didn't have any more breath for kisses they rested (still sharing each other's breath) with their foreheads close together.  
“I'm still going to punish you, you know...” Tom finally added, his voice laced with humour.

Harry rolled his eyes in amusement but other than that didn't move an inch.  
“I know.” _he wondered if he had got stuck in that one word._

“...and I have some specific terms.”

Harry tensed a bit but still didn't move.  
“I expected as much.”

Tom raised his head; this looked like a very serious matter.

“I won't have you thoughtlessly risking your very neck, again.” _d_ _efinitely steel there._  
“My followers are very much yours too, to keep you from trouble, so I'm going to see that matter myself. Whenever out of this house, or the school, you will remain in my presence; we'll deal together with anything happening. That until the bonding, to the very earliest.”

Harry wanted to shout and complain that he wasn't a kid to need a minder, although he got Tom's point.

His partner didn't let him say a word though by closing his lips with a finger.  
“Think about it darling, do you really want us parted when I could be dealing with the pests getting you into trouble, like your Greek friend for example.” he smiled.

Harry promptly bit his finger.  
“Bastard!” a breath, “You didn't hurt him did you?”

He got a darkened stare and a very satisfied smile.

“Now you remembered to ask did you?” Tom sounded extremely pleased that he hadn't even thought to ask him about his today activities before. _Harry shouldn't find hot that look, he really shouldn't.  
_ “He is alive and far less hurt that he deserves.” open displeasure.

Harry let out a relieved breath but he wasn't going to drop it.  
“...and you will leave him alone from now own...” it wasn't really a question.

Tom smirked.  
“Convince me.” but before a blushing/fuming Harry could mention the oath (which felt fully restored between then) his partner continued.  
“The oath doesn't count; he is a self stated enemy.”

Harry muttered an expletive, didn't even know if it was directed towards Tom or Aggelakis, but he still wasn't going to leave things as they were.  
“What did you do to him?” he insisted.

Tom rolled his eyes at his persistence.

“Worsened the condition to his liver and gave him a much exacerbated case of arthritis, nothing that can't be reversed to a point, if only he bothers going to St Mungo. Will you answer now?” he had the nerve to sound half exasperated half indulging.

Harry didn't miss the 'to a point' distinction, nor had he forgotten Mr Manthos' aversion to hospitals, but for a declared enemy (and he had no real reason to doubt him on this) Tom had been indeed – _weirdly–_ merciful. In any case it wasn't something that he could deal with right now.  
“Alright, we are going to kill each other in a couple days from the constant presence, but I agree.”

Tom wasn't satisfied even now.  
“Do I have your word?” - _he definitely didn't miss punches._

This time Harry didn't hide his frustration.  
“Yes damnit, you have it, now tell me of the other terms.”

He got another very satisfied look and Tom continued.  
“It is only one truly, but vital. Do I have your word that you aren't going to create, perform, or get involved in any ritual that I don't know about and fully agree with?”

This time Harry exploded.

“You, you asking me this? You who used and messed up with rituals before I've even met you? Are you out of your mind?” he tried to compose himself.“The first demand I understood, I have screwed up a few times, but this, no, it was the only one and its not like you never made any mistake by involving us with a ritual.” the word horcrux was heavy without even getting spoken.

Tom sent him a look.

“It may be only one but I don't like your reckless attitude regarding it. I'm not going to lose you due to carelessness and neglect.” his look was final. “Nevertheless you have a point. Very well, you will also have full disclosure and veto power on every ritual I may get myself too. Additionally, you are allowed to have Granger check the safety parameters herself if it's so important to you that I won't know about it.”

Harry felt his throat constructing to this, _it was incredibly generous._  
“Alright you have my word. Any chance that I could convince you to have Herm check yours too?” he only half joked.

Tom glared daggers.  
“In your dreams, study more to be certain of your objections yourself.” the tone was teasing the words not.

“Prat.” Harry consented with a complain, though inwardly resolved to change his mind.

Tom smirked, reading his mind.  
“Convince me to this too.”

Harry allowed his partner to back-walk him towards their bed but, just before he found himself horizontal, couldn't help a small quip.  
“I could do it, but do you really want me to think about other people during those moments, Tom?”

The other's eyes flashed dangerously.  
 _Yup he was for fun times!_

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

_ **Tom's pov** _

Tom wasn't of course to accept such a thing, reacting instinctually to the challenge. He pounced, throwing Harry to the bed, and kissed him until he was squirming impatiently and pulling him desperately against him.

The easy thing would have been to just let go.

_Tom had been hardly unaffected with Harry blatantly offering him himself, but his tastes rarely run to easy things and he had a number of scores to settle with his partner even if he counted only tonight._

So he didn't allow the indulgence, taking a hold of Harry's hands and keeping him motionless on the mattress,   
only then raising his head to look at him.  
“Even if you actually attempted it do you really think it would have lasted for long?” but the question wasn't as rhetoric as he would have liked it.

Harry sent him an unrepentant grin.  
“Maybe I wanted to test it for myself?” he didn't seem in the least bit troubled by the position he found himself though.

Tom decided to test him some more.  
“Really?” he asked delicately, while he slowly shifted Harry's hands until they were above his head, holding them together. “What do you think now?”

Both of them knew that he was asking something very different.  
There was a moment's pause as Harry seemed to consider this and then he smiled and nodded his approval for Tom to take the lead.

But Tom wanted so much more from Harry to simply accept this.  
He called his tie.

The moment was indefinably longer this time and wrung with tension. Harry's eyes had darkened considerably, but his hesitation was far more pronounced than before, as he fought between fear, trust, and desire. But in the very end (although logically it didn't last all that long) the last two won and his lids fluttered close in surrender as he relaxed in his arms.

Tom was astonished with how much it meant to him that struggling surrender (oddly enough far more than if it was an easy thing) and he bound Harry's hands, together but separate by the cloth, with the utmost care. The knot wasn't an impossible one to loose, even without magic, as he didn't even secure it at the headboard.

He preferred Harry's submission given completely freely, even the tying was merely a symbol.

Still, it was a breathtaking symbol and he allowed himself a couple moments to admire the contrast of Harry's skin to the black silk but no more than that, he had infinite more plans to fulfil than just looking.

He started simply for once, caressing the lengths of his arms, whatever could reach from his torso, and his neck with his fingertips, (his partner had stated a preference for gentle, no?) and enjoying his lover's light shudders of desire.

Harry had still been a little surprised with the pace but when he stroked his lips responded by kissing his fingers.

Tom kissed him then, not in the usual passionate way that demanded everything and would have Harry writhing against him in bare moments, but with tender light touches, barely more than simple pecks, until his partner couldn't stand it anymore and tried to deepen the kiss himself.

That gave Tom no choice but to retry and shift at Harry's side, abandoning the full body contact. It was in no way in his plans for Harry to take the lead anymore tonight, never mind intensifying things before was ready for. His lover was going to take exactly what he would choose to give him, at the moment he choose to, nothing more.

There was no complain to this, just an inward breath, but Harry turned at his side to face him too and that Tom allowed it. However, Harry had learned his lesson this time and responded to the kiss in the same pace.

Tom rewarded that by moving to his jaw, behind his ear, and then to his offered neck, licking delicately, and even going lower, to the little nipples. Alternately switching between lips, tongue and fingertips and judging by the patterns to the other's breath and involuntary movement if he remembered correctly the sensitive places. _(too soon to use and get lost in the link)_

He definitely did.

Finally, it was the time for him to do what he longed for ever since he saw Harry nude in the shower, to mark his body all over again. The three days apart had been more than enough for Harry's magic to heal everything he had left him and Tom found himself honestly bereft to see his lover without any sign of his possession.

In the return trip, he spiced things even more, at last starting to direct the encounter at exactly the way he wanted to. This time, when he reached the tempting neck, didn't just greet it with a kiss but sunk his teeth right to its base.

Harry's startled yelp wasn't one entirely of surprise and pain; it was one of pleasure too. Tom couldn't help a smile against his skin. He had been proved right; Harry had asked for gentleness, and even enjoyed it, but what could truly sent him to stratosphere was a mix of it and pain.

_And it was his very own prerogative to choose when and how to give it._

Their eyes met once again, Harry looked flustered with arousal but shy too and Tom couldn't help but break the silence he had himself imposed.  
“Liked that didn't you?” there was no help to his teasing smile either, even if he had wanted to hide it behind a mask, but at this moment he definitely didn't.

Harry's blush intensified even more but he still had enough of his wits about him to send him a coy look and tease right back.  
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn't.”

Tom couldn't resist that challenge either.  
He wetted in his mouth his right thumb and index finger (more for show) and pinched sharply Harry's left nipple.

The responding howl was even more intense this time, for all that Harry tried to hold himself back, but didn't ask him to stop anyway and Tom repeated it on the other bud.

This had an even stronger effect and Harry arched against him, offering his tiny treasures for more. He ended alternating between the small peaks until they were stiff, red, and swollen (almost like small berries) and his lover was panting, writhing in his hands and clinging to him, all but rubbing against his thigh.

Tom himself wasn't in a much better condition; nearly lost to what was causing and Harry's trust _(nothing could be ever better than this, nothing!)_ and he drank greedily his lover's cries, whether they were from ecstasy or pain, his master plan all but forgotten.

_He was a sadist after all; it was a matter of biological make-up for him to cause and enjoy pain. But this –Harry's freely offered surrender– there was nothing clinical or even genetic to it, it was an imperative._

He wanted, needed, to give him more of this, more of the kind of pain Harry could actually enjoy, to always give him something he could take pleasure too, no matter how far he was going to take things.

_Maybe even teach/entice him into liking darker things, darker pleasures..._

It was with that instinct, to drive Harry even higher before allowing him release that had Tom's hand moving for his other favourite sensitive place. He found it and couldn't help himself but caress the firm globes (which made his partner arch against his hand even more) and then slapped them firmly like that first time.

“No.”

Tom's head snapped back, like it was himself the one that had been slapped.  
“What do you mean no?” he asked trying to clear his head, he had been too close to the finish line to be able to gain his wits back completely at once.

Harry was still tied but was regarding him sternly with bottomless (yet so dilated that they were near black) eyes.  
“I said no. I don't want you to do this, to spank me.” he elaborated with a steely voice.  
“Not tonight.” he wetted his lips.

Tom, for all his irritation towards him, couldn't help a wisp of admiration for his partner's strength. Harry was literary aching for it, with his hardness as slick with precome as his own, but had stopped him to test if he would keep his word and desist if asked.

There was really no question to the matter.

Tom took a deep breath, centring himself, and smiled dangerously.  
“I will accept a rain check.” he turned Harry again to his back; _he had so many places he hadn't marked yet…_

_Frankly, he was slightly grateful for the timely interruption, he had been too close to orgasm for comfort and while he could have started again afterwards it would hardly have the same impact._

Harry smiled at him with renewed trust and sent him an inquiring look.

“Thank you.” cheeks burning with shame, he very deliberately stretched out his body, displaying his bound hands, and licking slowly his lips...  
The reward/offer was unmistakable.

Tom barely held back a moan.

 _This was beyond tempting, to lose himself again in that incredible heaven and in such a dominant stance too –_ _but no_ _–_ his psyche burned for something else even more, so it was time to proceed with his plan.

He buried his hands to Harry's hair and kissed him hungrily, giving him a hint of what he had asked for, until his lover was responding to his kisses with even more passion and abandonment than before.  
“Ask me later, sweetheart.” he told him when he had to breathe.

Harry looked startled with his decline but he again managed to quip back.  
“Maybe there won't be a next time to this.” his tone was easy enough but there was and a touch of bite.

Tom raised a challenging eyebrow.  
“Or maybe you'll like that one so much that it won't even cross your mind.” still some suspicion remained. So he set himself to distract Harry from this with more nips and kisses, to his neck, arms and chest, easing a bit with his tongue the abused nubs, but his true aim was further down.

_Harry had dared to play with fire this night, it was only natural that he should feel the sting even a little bit. Additionally he had made him wait, and even dared to test him. Who was he to make it easy in turn, or to deny him a further lesson in trust and surrender?_

Another test to his determination came when he reached Harry's erection and he found himself surprisingly drawn to taste the adorning droplets and even the hardness itself. He told himself that he wished only to devastate Harry as he had been devastated himself and left it at that, but he could hardly follow through even for that.

 _He needed Harry fully present not incoherent, this was too important.  
_ So he merely teased him with his hot breath until Harry was trembling, almost close to begging.

_It was time._

His hand slipped stealthily against his lover's toned belly and he muttered softly a very specific cleaning spell.   
Every sound and move stilled.

There was such increase to the already high tension that Tom was literally compelled to meet Harry's eyes, his partner regarded him steadily back but there was something deadly in the calmness.  
“Changed your mind?” he asked simply.

The world froze.  
In the span of seconds they shared that look Tom was assaulted with Harry's horror and betrayal and something that felt very much like intense regret. (his)

 _But this wasn't what it felt like._  
His need was the exact opposite of separating from/hurting Harry.  
(Actually it was a weakness that really bothered him)

Still, he couldn't help but curse that demon inside him that pushed him to exhaustively test everything (especially things that mattered) until he broke them, as it was still a factor. _Hadn't he learned anything by his mistakes so far?_

“Hardly. I have no intention to take you all the way tonight.” he assured harshly, trying to halt the disaster that was unfolding. It wasn't enough to make Harry believe him and he got a lifeless look and the full dose of his acidic tongue.

“What, you don't find me enticing enough for it?" his bound hands were displayed again, as a psychological weapon this time.   
“Should I turn to my stomach instead?” the tone was completely dry but almost suggestive.

Tom snapped, in one moment he had been leaning against Harry's legs the next he was shaking him until his teeth rattled.  
“You will never speak that way again, do you hear me?” no reaction.

Still enraged he raised his hand to hit Harry but something in his eyes and stance stopped him, he sighed.  
“Its way beneath you,” he told him more gently. “You are no whore to sell your wares.”

Harry had no reaction in any of this, the dead look remained. Tom had seen more life in the eyes of people he had killed than this and his partner's voice, when he finally spoke, was devoid of any emotions.  
“What was your game then?” he made no move to get away from him but he was like a wooden plank, unyielding and inflexible.

Tom tried to calm himself down, anger wasn't going to get any reaction, still he couldn't help a faint blush; there was a reason he attempted to go for it without asking.  
“Nothing major, just to play a bit as I did before, you definitely didn't mind that.” he smirked.

Harry wasn't placated at all. He got a tiny bit of colour to his face from this but his countenance remained grave.  
“Right, you didn't outright discard us, just intended to play it 50/50, this is reassuring.” his voice dripped with sarcasm and this time he tried to get away from him. Tom took full advantage of the two stones he had on him and didn't let him.

_Still that reaction was better than apathy._

Tom was frankly relieved and a little peeved to finally understand the problem. _It looked like his IQ dropped with the rouse of hormones there was no other way he had missed that.  
_ “Let me guess, you checked Richardson's book, 'Traditional Handfastings and Bonds' right?” his voice was back to his normal haughty tone due to relief.

Harry still wasn't impressed.  
“As far I remember it was you that pointed that danger to me.” he shot back acidly.

 _And the mere fact that Harry wasn't satisfied with this but researched it himself was telling something very interesting_ – but Tom refrained from drawing attention to it, yet.

“Indeed, but I was wrong, I cross-referenced it with other books.” the incoming lecture cleared completely his head and he continued in a calmer mood. “Unlike girls we don't have a hymen to risk damaging, even with fingers... So for a loss of anal virginity, physical and magical, the true clause and requirement is contact with seminal fluids.”

Harry made a face at him.  
“Now he tells me.”

Tom cleared his throat, very uncomfortable.  
“Actually I finished that research two days ago.” _he hated to admit that, for all the weakness it implied, but if it got him back to Harry's good graces it was worth it._

Harry relaxed a bit but it didn't last more than a moment.  
“Even so, can you honestly tell me that you didn't start this as a final test, or that you wouldn't have done exactly the same to punish me if you choose to drop me?” his eyes cut Tom to the bone; it was a still considered possibility.

A heavy exhaled breath, holding all the weariness of the world.  
“To be fair you did warn me.”

Tom swore a blue streak inside.

The last thing he could ever wish for was for Harry to get tired/resigned of him, to stay put but closed off. He wanted him to play with him/against him and enjoy it, not just endure it. But this time he had taken it too far and it had hurt deeper than he intended. The only way to really fix this was to confess and expose the deeper reason and the weakness behind it.

 _To really keep Harry he had to reveal everything.  
_ He met his eyes steadily.

“I won't deny that it played its part, or that I'm not capable to act in such a way, we both know better.” indeed he still felt the thrill of causing Harry that much agony and rage, all because he didn't want to lose him, and it was intoxicating.  
“But it wasn't the only reason, not even the primary one, that drove me to this.”

A fortifying breath as he dropped his shields.  
“I need to have you, even if it's only with my fingers.”

Harry's eyes widened to this in true surprise.  
“But you already have me.” he answered simply, and it was the truth.

Tom had to close his eyes to such intensity and silently agree: _no sexual act by itself could ever compare with the strength of their link, but…  
_ “Sometimes, darling, even that it's not enough,” he spoke softly, but with passion, trying to make Harry understand.

 **“** **It didn't really count before, it was just a thought. But ever since our first night I can't stand it.”** he confessed in parseltongue, **“** **That there are new, available, ways for me to possess you and I can't,”** he gripped his arms, hard. **“I can't have you entirely, until there is not a single drop left, for months to no end.”** he stoked Harry's cheeks and rested together their foreheads.

There wasn't a quip to this like: 'that he couldn't entirely possess him anyway' merely an intense examination.  
 **“Alright then,”** Harry's voice was just as soft but confident, **“** **You can have me in any way you currently can.”**

Tom had to raise his head then and meet properly Harry's eyes. There was understanding there and a strong echo of returned desire, his partner was merely better at suppressing his needs. Still, it wasn't a carté blanche, or complete forgiveness. He was giving him one more chance to regain his trust, nothing else.

If he chose to misuse that, then there was nothing left of them to save.

He kissed Harry tenderly for this, with all the gratitude he couldn't really voice, and set to bring him back in the previous level of arousal. It wasn't easy; Harry's body had started perking up again, merely by his confession, but he still remained somewhat tense and more guarded in his responses.

Tom hated that, (exactly because he knew it was his fault) and missed the previous wild response, but the manipulation of Harry's body and his murmured praises seemed to bring him back little by little. However all the tension seemed to return the moment his hands rested on Harry's thighs.

_Enough was enough!_

He had no wish to deal with a martyr.  
“Harry?” a startled look, “I have no desire to take what you don't want to give. So, what do you want?”

Harry's intense eyes scrutinized his face, then his expression softened: he had passed.  
“I want you.” _'_ _I trust you.'_ It wasn't said but it was heard.

Tom couldn't contain a triumphant (and relieved) smile and Harry rolled his eyes, everything was again relatively normal. There wasn't bad tension anymore, not even when he knelt and raised Harry's legs high and apart.

Still, he was surprised by the extent of his own desire. Tom was used to want Harry, exactly because he was Harry.  
The idea of sex in general _–_ _or what he planned specifically–_ was too revolting to contemplate. (male to female sex, while still disgusting, held the logical motive of procreation)

But viewing those firm trim buttocks, while he held his lover's wiry thighs, was far more exciting than he expected and he found himself pondering acts that had previously read about and discarded as repulsing.

Harry chose that moment to interrupt his consideration.  
“Hey Tom, you plan to keep looking there for long?” he didn't sound anxious, only awkward, and his face was a very intense cherry red.

Tom sent him a sultry smile from between his thighs.  
“Maybe I want to, it's a surprisingly hot sight.” he endorsed this with a bite at Harry's inner thigh. “Maybe I can't decide what I want to do to you first.” a lick to the inner knee. His voice seemed to work on Harry at least as much as his actions and he continued on, articulating some of his fantasies.

“ **I can't settle if I want to take you as you are now, bound and with your legs wide open, completely to my mercy. Or to open you up slowly, as I** **'ll be** **lying** **be** **side** **you** **, so that I could drink your cries. Or better yet, to turn you face down and free your hands, so that you will hold yourself open for me...”** he had to stop for a moment as his own imagination took the better of him.

“ **MMM maybe, I should keep the last one for over the desk.”**

“ **TOM!”** Harry sounded chocked and his eager organ was really twitching and generously crying now.

Tom needed all his will power to not crouch and drink it up, instead he started rubbing soothingly his thighs, to calm both of them.  
“Relax my love, my darling; I'm going to take good care of you, to give you everything you need.” he could hardly recognise his own voice.

Harry seemed too far gone to continue voicing his demands but the way he arched his body against him didn't really need anything more. Tom sucked his breath, the view of his lover was incredible: head thrown back, hands bound, his whole body and soul an offer. Everything he ever dreamed of and more.

_It was finally time._

Tom's manhood ached up, fiercely, but he didn't dare touch himself to ease things, everything was going to end at once in such a case. He concentrated instead on conjuring some lube (fragrant oil) not merely the tiny amount he had hastily called on the shower, but a quantity to allow him to really work.

(He avoided conjuring a pillow for fear of what it would do to him and his control to have Harry's opening at the same height with his cock)

Bowl conjured, (took barely a moment) he called out for his lover.  
“Open your eyes love.” he couldn't imagine doing that without Harry's eyes on him.

Harry's eyes snapped open by the endearment (for once used purely as such) but it took him a moment to focus at the shiny substance on his fingers. He blushed again, cherry red, and seemed to have difficulty at breathing but definitely didn't seem against it.

Tom took pity of him (too inpatient to draw things more) and started to play around. However there was a drawback by having Harry's full attention, his partner wasn't surprised like the first time and had unconsciously tightened up. It took more than a few circles around the tiny rosette until he managed to gain entry.

_But Salazar! It was tighter than tight!_

He could hardly move his finger inside that velvety heat. That and Harry's expression as he stared fixedly at him nearly sent him off. Tom held back by the skim of his teeth and forcefully recalled the anatomy diagram he had memorised.

Everything became easier then, it didn't take him long at all to find Harry's prostate and rub firmly that small bump. He drank greedily his lover's bucking, cries, and pleasure until the fast but intense cresting. (Way too soon for him to really sate himself though)

It hardly mattered, Tom couldn't help himself for all the fortifying (and biting on his lips until it drew blood) he attempted, he was way too involved. Harry's release hit him like a tidal wave triggering his own. There was nothing but Harry and the music of cosmos for a couple moments.

When he managed to focus back his sight Harry was blinking back at him with a sappy smile.   
(He refused to even think about spotting something of the same)  
“Wow! That was truly something!”

 _Definitely still high to admit something like that out loud._  
Tom sent him back a superior smile (definitely not sappy) allowing a soft reply.  
“Indeed.”

_Mind-blowing pleasure and elation aside (and dominance on something more precious than the universe) his plan had worked. Harry had enjoyed this as much as he did and could hardly deny him a repeat. Little by little (or lot by lot) he was going to get him used in such pleasures and when the time came his partner would hardly wait to take him inside._

_One obstacle down! The boost in Harry's trust and his own influence didn't hurt either!_

Then Harry's gaze sharpened and he rose up on his elbows.  
“Did you just try to hold back, again?” the last word cutting.  
Tom sent him a look.

“Yes, but it wasn't a punishment, I'm hardly finished with you.” he nodded downwards, where their come had mixed on Harry's belly, and scooped a bit with his right hand, tasting it. Harry flushed.

He enjoyed that flush and Harry's panting lips, (too far, but he promised himself to raid them afterwards)Tom was nowhere near down for the count (the climax had just taken the edge off) and Harry was hardly flaccid, he decided to up his game...

So he flexed his fingers inside making Harry gasp and clamp tightly down.  
(The velvety flesh had relaxed a bit with orgasm, allowing him to insert the second finger; with a bit of stretch it could easily take three) and he took it from where he had left it.

**“** **Did you really thought that I was going to stop there? No my Harry, I'm going to give you everything I have promised you so far and much, much more.”**

**“** **TOM?!”** _it wasn't a protest._

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

 Later, much, much later, Tom allowed himself to collapse and crawl into Harry's arms, freeing his hands and gently rubbing the circulation back. (just in case) They shared a few lazy kisses but they were both too sleepy to give it the attention it deserved.

They could continue on the second fantasy after a few hours of rest, Tom had no intention to let it go. Still, his last fleeting thought before falling asleep was for poor Gramps who never allowed himself such a link and so never knew what he had missed.

Tom was going to keep his immeasurable treasure and still gain everything.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS Edited at 11/28/2014  
> Please review to inspire me for more...


	17. Business and Pleasure (or the opposite)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An early morning and few serious talks (not necessarily about business)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there, its three months again and I'm sorry, but I finally managed to finish the chapter. Please enjoy it and tell me what you think.  
> Much Love  
> Krysania
> 
> This is for Dancyon's birthday (for all that her actual gift got delayed a bit...and yes it will come too)  
> Happy birthday my friend! (looks like I have set a theme with the last chapters_)
> 
> PPS if my lemons are so poor they are beneath voicing an opinion (except certain much appreciated individuals) I will avoid posting them.

****Chapter Seventeen: Business and Pleasure (or the opposite)** **

__ **Harry's** _ _ __ **pov** _ _

Harry was still lost to sleep but there was a warm breath to his face calling him to awareness. It descended to his lips, becoming firm, sweet, lips and a gentle tongue that licked at the seam of his until they parted for it, taking it inside with a moan. There were also warm but insisting hands that travelled to his body, setting it afire.

He could do nothing but surrender to that fire.

 **“That's it, darling, like that.”** was hotly whispered to his ear, while Tom's hands deftly helped him shift at the position he wanted him. Harry allowed it with a low murmur, still half asleep but rapidly gaining awareness, his body hungrily responding even before that, loving everything.

He had lost count on how many times he had been awoken from sleep that night by Tom's warm kisses to his face, neck, chest, or back. (One special case due to fresh fruit slices popped to his lips, followed by shared orange juice) Or the times he did his own awakening, but every single time, in whatever stance they found themselves, at least two of Tom's fingers always ended up inside him.

He could recall every single moment from the previous night with complete clarity and yet a part of him still couldn't believe that he could feel so utterly, utterly, intoxicated with what they had repeatedly done; something that its mere idea used to give him genuine creeps.  _(Well not entirely, there had been some thoughts –recently– that he was certain it would have caused Tom to curse him, at least moderately, if he knew about them.)_

He had initially given in more out from the profound need to satisfy Tom's hunger than any innate wish for the specific act (more or less considering it not a big deal) but he had found himself beyond surprised. He had discovered things about the both of them (not just himself) that had astounded him.

Tom's slim fingers had felt huge and beyond invasive inside him but weirdly intimate. _Definitely not unnatural, but maybe –just maybe– something he couldn't do without from now on._ It had hurt a bit, (negligible) but it was thanks to that sting of pain that adrenalin had rushed to his blood making every single detail crazily intense.

It wasn't even the pleasure from the sensitive spot that was the revelation, although the intensity played a very big part, but the whole situation had awoken such conflicting emotions inside him that he would have never guessed feeling in the first place.

Harry had honestly never felt more open, emotionally raw, vulnerable, or out of control in his life. It was ten times scarier than letting Tom tie his hands. For all it wasn't all the way it had felt kind of permanent, like if Tom was breaking the last few barriers he had managed to keep so far and possessing him utterly.

Not that what they'll already done before hadn't an element of that (thanks to their link) but it was somehow earthier and more tangible.  
 _(Like as if he could never again deny_ _–even to himself–_ _what it means, or Tom himself, for that matter)_

The most terrifying part: he had given it entirely willingly.

Even now, Tom wasn't leaving things at steaming kisses and feverish, but relatively innocent, caresses. He was already fully awake and his hands were moving slowly but purposefully downwards to his back, teasing deliciously at his opening, and concluding it inevitably with a couple fingers ending quite unerringly inside him. Harry couldn't find in himself to complain.

However he couldn't contain a half pained/half blissful sigh.

It hurt, those two rough digits at once, (for all his relaxation from sleep and the previous activities) and he could barely properly breathe for that matter, but Harry still tried to help Tom with his body and to give back at least some of the pleasure he was getting, rubbing as best he could against his hardness, but Tom wasn't letting him to take him in his hand.

 **“That's it love,”** Tom was relentless, **“open those thighs wider for me.”** inserting the third finger, and his voice a hoarse whisper, but he still drove Harry crazy (his voice as much as the fingers.)

He complied _(he couldn't help it at that moment)_ but his face was burning up from shame, arousal and bashfulness, as it worsened the already beyond awkward and exposed position he was. (Half lying over Tom with his right leg bend upwards and thrown a near parallel with Tom's waist)

 _Really, Harry hadn't felt that shy or exposed yesterday, not even when Tom had knelt between his open thighs._ He wanted to hide his face at his warm neck and just let the tide take him but instead he kissed and kissed Tom, trying to both express those feelings and gain some control in that madness.

Not that Tom let him even a shred of control, holding him motionless with a steely arm around his waist and taking him so ruthlessly that the only thing that Harry could do was to drown his moans at Tom's mouth.

It became even worse when Tom started scissoring his fingers, bringing everything into such a sharp point that Harry simply couldn't help himself:  
“HURTS!” head thrown back he wailed. It still wasn't a complaint, or a plea for mercy, more like an outward expression of the maddening build up.

 **“YESSSSSSSSS!”** Tom's reaction was a long drawn out hiss and his entire body shook and then stilled, like Harry's one single wail had actually physically pleasured him.

That aural and tactilely response nearly sent Harry to paradise, just not quite. He didn't really need much though, just one more of those brutal thrusts or a single twist. Unfortunately Tom chose that exact moment to change pace.

He ended just lying there, panting, while the thrusts resumed inside him, becoming nearly gentle, and the arm that held him prisoner turned into a soft caress, easing him almost kindly down from the precinct. Harry wasn't sure he wanted to be eased down though. (More like hit him)  
“Tom?” still, he did his best to sound in control of himself.

A soft teasing laugh.  
“Relax, my Harry, I will get you there.”  
 _('When I'm good and ready for' wasn't needed to be said.)_

Harry wanted to swear a blue streak but something in Tom's too light and carefree voice and the very careful way he held him made him pause, even their link seemed way too muted for his tastes. Experimentally he stretched his neck and kissed Tom tenderly on the lips.

It wasn't really a surprise to find then clenched and compressed into a single line, nor the recoiling that became a near desperate response to his kiss, or the onslaught that broke from their link. Tom wasn't simply in a dominance high or even just getting off in the power he had on him.

Still, the feelings and mental pictures that passed through were enough to make them both tremble.

His lover had been literally brought at the end of his rope control wise and even now was a hairbreadth away from turning them around and just taking him all the way. He wasn't going to though, no mater how much he was literally dying for.

_...And Salazar! Tom wanted him, to the point of madness, the sheer hours he spend pleasurably torturing him were proof enough..._

It was something Harry had already half known, though various other things, but it had been thoroughly reinforced tonight: Tom wasn't going to back down either in his promise (secondary) nor the aim he had set for himself (primarily) no matter what. Not even his needs or desires were going to stand in his way, cost notwithstanding. Neither his will (ego) nor his discipline was going to allow him a break.

That nearly inhuman control was the main reason he trusted him so explicitly, he knew that in the places they agreed upon (or even disagreed) he could count on him. Harry could let go, he knew that Tom could and was going to catch him, (even carry them both) if needs to be he was strong enough for it.

 _Still,_ a part of Harry, _couldn't help but wonder at how it would be like if Tom let loose of said unforgiving self-control and restrictions._

He knew better than voicing any of those though: Tom, the idiot, was still somewhat convinced that it was a form of weakness to want him _–Need him–_ that much. _(Enough to test his resolve at such extend)_ Harry wasn't going to bring it up though, firstly because he partially understood, but mostly cause he preferred to get off than setting up a fight.

That didn't mean he was just going to lie there, like a doll, Tom had calmed enough by now that he didn't need to retry in himself to avoid ravaging him.

 _Maybe it was his own time to play?  
_ When his hand closed around Tom's manhood this time his lover didn't stop him.

On the contrary, Tom's gasp and surging upwards (and continuous groans) showed that he was more than welcome. Nor it was asked of him in any manner or form to remove his hand. The intrusion inside him returned though, deliciously hard, even the scissoring. (though nowhere near wide as before)

The problem was that the bastard was artfully avoiding his prostate, to punish him. _– Yes this time he was pretty damn sure it was a punishment._  
 _Well, not his only current problem._

Tom's erection felt so hot, velvety, and stone-hard that it was impossible to avoid the thoughts he had spend nearly the whole night (when he could think at all) fighting:

_– Those fingers felt incredible but what could it be like to actually take his cock inside him?_

_– What could it feel if Tom turned him to his stomach (like he glimpsed him imagining it, time and time again) and just took him?_   
_(He was so drenched in precome that it could work)_

_– How it could feel if the very last barrier fell, if they really become one in every sense?_

_– Tom's hardness was definitely wider (and longer) than his slim fingers, but how it could feel if that silky steel took the place of said digits?_

Harry couldn't help himself but imagining it, it was way too easy in the current situation. His fingers trembled with want as he traced the veins at said hardness, nearly feeling how it could be, and his body clenched in response to the ghost sensation.

Tom groaned deeply due to this but he still made no attempt to give him relief.  
Harry had enough of this.

With a decisive shift to his body he sat astride him, taking them both to his hands. If Tom disagreed to this he could throw him aside (and he would punch him) else he could bitch about it later.

Tom made no such thing though, just a very well aimed shift to his fingers and then withdrew them; Harry just had to chase them.

But he had underestimated his partner.  
 **“You want them, take them.”**

 **“Oh shut up!”** but he indeed did his best to just take them.

It became a game between them, Tom teasing (for once properly) and he chasing, forcing him to steady himself on one hand,  
 _(still not deserting his prize though.)_

Tom hadn't finished with him yet. **  
****“Like that, love, dance to my fingers.”** he sounded completely breathless, and just as affected,  
but the damage had been done, the precious sense of control was lost from Harry.

He was again dying from need.  
 **“You...Talk...Too...Much.”**

 **“You love it.”** he could have heard Tom's smile (though strained) even if he wouldn't momentarily see it, due to a sudden lighting outside,  
but he still wasn't done.  
 **“Give me this, dance for me.”** a near whisper.

It wasn't an order, nor exactly a plea, but Harry found himself both unwilling and unable to deny him.  
 **“Yes, you damned bastard, yes!”** _'Yes to everything.' thankfully the latest part wasn't voiced._

Tom looked transfixed with the view _(Salazar only knew how much he could actually see thanks to the lighting storm)_  
but it still wasn't enough to make him keep his mouth shut.  
 **“Just feel it, darling...”** he lost his breath, switching it to directly communicating it through their link:

_'I'm going to give it to you as often you like, as often you can handle it, maybe more... I'm going to corner you, at every secret passage in the school, and have you repeatedly ride my fingers to my heart's content.'_

**“TOM!”**

Harry wanted to protest and swear, he really did, but the words, pleasure, and mental images proved too much for him. The ecstasy hit him so hard that it was indistinctive from pain. When it was finally done he crumbled against an equally destroyed Tom like a fallen tree.

* * *

~ ** ******* ~

* * *

The next thing he knew, some indeterminate time later, (but with the storm still ragging outside) was that he was clutching Tom to his chest and his lover was clutching him back (and about just as aware) like they had survived an avalanche.

Harry blushed.

He considered about kissing Tom and wishing him good morning but that would mean they should get up to start their day and Harry wasn't exactly ready for that yet, wanting to enjoy the afterglow for a little while more, especially since Tom, usually in such a hurry in the mornings, hadn't made a single move to rise either.

However, as he snuggled better against his partner, he suddenly recalled the last promise (the very thing that had set him off) and shot up from his comfortable position in near fright. _This needed immediate addressing.  
_ “You had better be kidding before.” green eyes wide in alarm and hands steadied on Tom's shoulders, he put it without preamble.

There was a flash of annoyance, due the sudden break in tranquillity and the non-sequitur, but Tom hid it immediately, presenting a teasing smile instead, (and looking a bit too pleased with himself for Harry's tastes.)  
“How so? I don't recall you complaining about it.” Harry felt his face heating in embarrassing proportions and he steadily avoided Tom's eyes.

“I liked it,” an understatement, “and the thought of doing all those things with you really excites me, but,” he contained a nervous gulp,  
“that doesn't mean it's not playing with fire doing them openly at school, especially with the current climate.”

_Honestly, a part of him, (a large one at that) wouldn't have minded to take said risk (repeatedly so) but he knew Tom. He may get off to this too, intensely so, but he would also feel the repercussions if they got caught just as intensely._

Tom grasped his chin none too gently, forcing him to look at him.  
“I have absolutely no intention about taking such irrational risks.” he looked and sounded perfectly composed with all traces of relaxation nearly gone.

Harry wasn't really surprised it was merely spoken in the heat of the moment (and if there was and a tiny twinge of disappointment about it he wasn't going to voice it.)

But then his lover continued.  
“However who ever said anything about getting caught.” he smirked. “We will be extremely careful, warding and arranging everything to perfection, No one will suspect a thing.”

Harry couldn't help an involuntary shudder of desire, he had very much enjoyed the spontaneously to some of their moments but there was something nearly sweet about organizing it too. Also the thought of Tom putting time, thought, and effort to have him was very arousing.  
Still, there was no way to make it a hundred percent safe, unless in the Room of Requirement, the Chamber, or maybe Tom's room.

“It's still risky, forget it.”

Tom, predictably, laughed at him considering the risks.  
“We'll see.” then drew him back down, Harry didn't fought him much.  
“Now rest a bit more, its still early.” his hands started wandering again, this time to soothe not arouse him.

They relaxed for a while, enjoying the moment, and Harry stayed so even when those hands went again very low, playfully tickling him, but without any sexual intend. This time as a declaration that they had every right to touch him there, even completely casually.

He was way too comfortable to complain (and maybe enjoying a bit the possessive statement)  
but the question came forth almost entirely without thought.

“Will you ever let me do the same to you?” fingers still idly tracing lines and circles (or protective runes) at Tom's chest,  
it was voiced out completely offhandedly.

There was a small pause, in which Harry half regretted it.

_There was a good chance that Tom couldn't or wouldn't be comfortable with granting such rights to his body even at him (intending to just bear it at the bonding and never again) and while Harry may find himself, eventually, accepting and compromising about it inside, that didn't mean he wanted to have it for certain just now._

But Tom seemed to thinking this seriously.  
“It's not an illogical suggestion. I will need an actual intimate acquaintance with the process anyway, I don't want surprises at the bonding.”  
but for all the assertive terms he still came out uncertain.

Harry cringed with how impersonal he sounded, he wasn't at all sure that he wanted it at such terms. On the other hand though, it was the norm for Tom to deal clinically with perceived problems (or to mask the deeper things) and more importantly it was Tom's body and decision, he kept his mouth shut.

Tom though had squashed his hesitations.

“Alright then, assuming that everything goes satisfactory in the battle, and you keep yourself safe and out of crazy suicidal stunts until then, you may observe me, but strictly that.” a minute pause.“Additionally, if you actually refrain from declining every single one of my suggestions, merely to decline them, I may even allow you to participate.” he sounded dry as sand.

It took a whole moment to Harry to move past the business like tone to the actual meaning and when he got it the punch he managed at Tom's chest was anything but gentle. _Trust Tom to have him work for it and literally dying from yearning before allowing him to lay a single finger!  
_ “You stinker! You are the worst tease at the British Islands, you know that.” he was smiling so hard his cheeks were aching.

“Stinker? That was original and so very mature!” Tom mocked him but Harry could actually hear his smile this time.  
“Only at the British Islands?” he inquired coyly.

“Australia and maybe Canada too.” he laughed “It's not something to be proud at you know.” he added as honour token.

“Nothing to be ashamed at excellence.” mock or not so mock haughtiness. “But a tease is someone that provokes without any intention to ever fulfil said promises and, to you at least my Harry, I always deliver.”

Harry didn't know if he wanted to laugh again, blush, or hit him, but something was nagging him at the back of his mind and Tom sensed it.  
“Any other inquiry, darling?”

He couldn't contain the question, not even if he wanted to.  
“Yes, I wonder where on earth you learned all those tricks you used on me tonight?” his face flushed even with the remembrance.“I mean there is no way you came up with them just by instinct.” Harry tried to explain his bewilderment without sounding overtly jealous or defensive.

The question and the implied jealously seemed to really amuse Tom, (although more in a deeply pleased than a superior way.)  
“Would you believe me if I told you that it came from studying?” the counter question came out airily but, for once, without much brag.  
“And yes books come in more than the school courses.” the sarcastic conclusion was almost predictable, as to invalidate the previous statement.

 _But_ _–mocking aside– Harry actually believed_ _him._ _It sounded more than plausible, especially correlating with some earlier confessions. However...  
_ “Knowing you I could, almost easily, in everything but the way you kiss. That really has experience behind it and I don't think you got it from Hermione.”

 __Alright, he was indeed a bit jealous, but both the kiss in the hospital wing and the one in Herm's memory had a calculated sensuality and confidence that a novice couldn't fake,__ (he remembered all too well his own clumsy first kisses to Amelia.)

His instant counter seemed to put Tom in a strange mood, although he remained somewhat amused,  
playing a bit with Harry's hair in contemplation. He was guarded, but not defensive or closed off.  
“Do you remember Lucretia Black?” he asked softly.

He could, but more due the fact she was Alphard's cousin than any close acquaintance with the girl. Still, now that he thought about it, he recalled that she was both prettier and had a much better disposition than Walburga.  
“Alphard's cousin, graduated in my first year here, top marks, pretty.” he summarised things, the last one a direct challenge.

“Easy.” Tom supplemented and clucked softly when Harry tensed.  
“I never said that I was fond or even appreciative of said trait.”  
there was a quality to his voice that left no doubt he spoke truth.

Now he remembered that too, not that she had ever approached him.  
“Hey, don't be a sexist.” he teased but it fell flat. “What happened?” he asked at least.  
 _Again with his damn curiosity but he had a feeling that Tom wanted him to ask._

Tom took again to stroking his hair.

“In about my fourth year I became aware that the whole class, not only those approached, were becoming increasingly overwhelmed with their hormones, it seemed an easy thing to cultivate. She was simply the best at the kissing art, from what I had seen, and I approached her to teach me, she agreed, gladly.” his voice was distant.

“And?” he prompted gently, hearing what wasn't said.  
 _Lucretia, was stunningly beautiful, popular, and one of the richest purebloods. Additionally she was at the time a sixth year while Tom a mere fourth, it had been a definite success and testament to his influence that she accepted. However Harry had started to sense the rest._

Tom continued, equally distant.  
“I was disgusted beyond words by it, and regretted starting it, but I mastered it, as I had set myself to do. When that was done and I ended it with her she offered to teach me the rest, I simply obliviated her.” but there was and a hint of anger in the end.

Harry understood most of it, he knew that Tom didn't have any sexual feelings, before him, and had looked down on their classmates for 'being led by their dicks' as the saying goes. But how it must have galled when he first realised how very different he was from them, even to this. To have the prettiest, easiest, girl in the whole school offering herself and not want her.

_(He was still surprised that he wanted him instead)  
_

On the other hand what he didn't get was that remaining quiet rage towards Lucretia.  
“Come now, Tom, and I can't believe that I'm flattering you, but considering your power and looks it wasn't that weird she wanted you.”  
 _( _a__ _ctually one or the other would have been enough)_

That seemed to break the icy anger to the hot rage underneath.  
“Teach me, like she taught Black, right in the dorm for everyone to hear? I think not. I couldn't have been more insulted, darling, I'm neither a plaything to be gawked at nor share.” he sounded beyond vehement.

Harry winced at the description; he wouldn't have wanted such an expose himself for anything.  
Still, something at Tom's tone got right to his nerves.

“What if I had lovers?” he asked softly, “What if everything had gotten right with Amelia, or was successful with my dating afterwards?" a breath.   
"Would I be too dirty and used for you to look at?” he wondered why he even asked.

“No.” Tom was just as fervent as before. “Nothing would have made you unworthy of me.” he stopped, as if ashamed by his own admission.  
“Your bed mates though,” he didn't even grace them by a proper title, “wouldn't have survived much to brag it.” his voice gained again that chilly certainty that send shivers down Harry's back. “I may not have gotten them immediately, may not even killed all of them, depends at your fondness, but they would have been disposed, that much I promise.” he meant every word.

Harry couldn't help a dry gulp, he had been warned and had accepted of such possessiveness but,  
although he had guessed even that much, it was still a step further into the vortex.  
“I'm not your possession though.” he voiced it.

“No more than I am yours.” Tom startled him.

Harry was suddenly very, very, glad of the near dark that shrouded his face from Tom's view, as well his shields that allowed less than half of what he felt to pass through. Tom may feel exactly as he said _–and Salazar help him, he believed him–_ but even that wasn't going to stop him from using it to his benefit, if he became aware to the extent of his weakness.

“So what about those books?” he hastily changed the subject,  
“Any chance you'll share them with me?”

Tom allowed it and lighted wandlessly a couple candles.  
“Not books, book.” he smirked and a very thick tome sailed right into Harry's hands.

Harry gaped. That thing was easily the size of a grimoire and when he opened it, on a random page, it had a very detailed, but tasteful, moving illustration. He riffled through and discovered that it wasn't just the illustrations but very thorough texts with advice on how to progress with the positions, from the most innocent foreplay to explicit _–_ full sex _–_ stances, even to weird, dirty, or bloody hot kinks.

Additionally it was full of other advices in spells and potions for lubrication, massage oils, endurance, how to extend orgasm or stave it off, how to enchant the pleasure and _–_ frankly predictable as it belonged to Tom _–_ dark spells on how to fully control your partner, curse, or even simply bewitch him or her during the act.

The weirdest part: it wasn't exclusively about male/female or male/male pairings but contained huge sections about everything, even female/female. _There was thorough and there was that!_

 _Harry was frankly impressed_ __–_ _ _disturbed but impressed._ _ _But what kind of need/use could Tom have in female/female tips?__

Harry wasn't sure about it but doubted that he was going to find his breath any time soon.  
“Merlin!” he exclaimed. “Where did you get it?” and couldn't help but ask. “Should I be worried?”  
The last part in teasing but only in half. _With Tom you could never know._

Tom watched his every reaction with a half fond/half cat (or in his case snake) that got the canary, smile.  
“I bought it this summer from Nadia, didn't say a word just put the money and added your name with the book's title in the sold out catalogue.” he pondered the other question.

“I think you are safe, for now.”

“Funny!” (dryly) he was still half absorbed by the book (and the warm knowledge that Tom had indeed wanted him even when he was seriously courting Herm, the timing and the mixed spells told him as much) that it took him a moment to process the complete statement.  
“Wait, wait, you put my name in the purchase?” he groaned, “No wonder why Nadia hates me, she considers me a deviant!”

Tom's smirk broaden, it was probably his revenge for ignoring his emotional comment and thereafter.  
“You are a deviant.” he got up, his eyes lingering on Harry and saying without words how much he appreciated it.  
“Get up, we need to clean up. The aurors will be later here today but not that much later.”

Harry was beyond tempted but his eyes were glued to finish the part, (and a tiny, weird, part of him wanted to keep Tom's smell on him for a little while longer.)  
“I will follow you in a moment.”

Tom crossed his arms.

“Come on, I will let you read it later today.” Harry just held it more protectively.  
“Harry?” Tom's foot tapped impatiently down, still no reaction. _  
_

A hot breath to his ear.  
“I didn't put your name in the book but Mulciber's.”

Harry snapped.  
“Why you..!” but Tom was already away.

He followed through with thoughts of revenge. There was no way on earth (unless true torture was involved and maybe not even then) to find out what the hell had his partner done, but he intended to try.

* * *

~ ** ******* ~

* * *

In the shower, after thoroughly tickling Tom, he managed to certify that it had indeed been Mulciber's name that got exposed. (Not that was completely sure, he would need said book for that) but he let it pass. 

They had some very pleasant moments, washing each other bodies and hair, but things became weird afterwards.  
“Hold on to me.” Tom was insistent and had procured a small vial from behind the shampoo.

Harry had definitely no such intentions and was glaring daggers.  
“What on earth, Tom?” however he tried to keep a relatively civil tone.

Tom sighed, trying in turn to look patient.  
“Come on sweetheart, you can't be that naive to not know what is it, or why you need it.”

Harry paled with horror and rage as an awful idea emerged.  
“Tell me that you didn't have Zev to make it?” he insinuated every word, having decided to break Tom's head at a negative answer.

Something like understanding passed from Tom's eyes.  
“Yes, but it's merely a generic healing potion, nothing to be uncomfortable about.”

Harry felt not a small amount of relief, for at least that, but he still wanted to hit Tom for bringing it up.  
“The hell , Tom, I don't need it , it's not like...” he stopped, blushing horribly , but then continued,  
“... you fucked me for Salazar's sake!” _he was going to be damned if he got intimidated by a word._

There was a momentarily smug flash in Tom's eyes for his hesitation.  
“Language!” but it was instantly changed into cool appraisal.“Even so, can you honestly tell me that you aren't even the smallest bit uncomfortable or cramped to your hips?" he asked clinically.

“I haven't been exactly gentle.”

 _...Or gave him a break for half the night..._  
Harry outright refused to blush, or budge a bit.  
“So?” he crossed his arms.

 _Alright, there was the barest hint of rawness, more like an awareness that something had been there, than any pain.  
_ “We both know that I had much, much, worse and, even if I hadn't, this is truly less than nothing.”

Another aggravated sigh, like if he was acting illogically, or a child.

“Think, darling. You can handle, or ignore, any kind of pain but it's its very insignificance that could pose problems.” Tom started the lecture.  
“We are for a day of rough training with the aurors, and even extended aerial exercises. Can you honestly tell me that your - _nothing-_ won't get aggravated or that you won't unwittingly betray us with an ill-timed stiffening or wince?” he laid the guilt too.

 _Damn! It was farfetched but not so implausible where he could easily ignore it, he really hated Tom!_  
 _“_ If I drink it, will you shut the hell up?” Harry asked tiredly.

Tom didn't even bother with correcting his language this time. Eyes already gleaning with victory he shook his head, trying to look regretful.  
Harry knew him a bit too well though.  
“The substance is so weak that it will be meaningless, it needs direct appliance.” but he knew better than to smirk.

Composure nearly lost, Harry threw his hands violently in the air.  
“Alright then, get lost and I will apply it myself.” he growled.

Tom had the nerve to not budge an inch.  
“Come on, love, let me take care of it, you know you don't have the reach to manage this comfortable, it will be far less humiliating if I do it.” he tried to coax him.

Harry was honest to God ready to deck him but something in Tom's eyes and tone gave him a momentarily pause. _Salazar he was an idiot!_  
This was unquestioningly a power play, but not of the usual type. More like yesterday, and although not overtly sexual this time, the basic need was the same.

He bit his bottom lip, part of him really wanting to give in, but he knew that such concession, once given, was unlikely to be able to get back. Harry crossed his arms.

“Its not enough.” openly asking for a better offer.

Tom didn't seem surprised or displeased in the slightest.  
“I will of course expect the same treatment in similar circumstances.” a slight pause, to see if it was enough.

Harry's heart and stomach constricted with need for the particular concession, but he knew it was unlikely to happen soon or that often afterwards, he stayed silent.

“A favour, no matter what, my final offer.” Tom hedged.

Harry merely raised an eyebrow, _it was a decent offer no question, but Tom had dared to ask for ten in his time of need, he definitely could spare two._ It was Tom that crossed his arms this time.

“Take it or leave it , and _-I might-_ consider another two of your requests more favourably.” he tried to sound testy.

Harry didn't smile at the compromise.  
“Alright.” he put his hands on Tom's shoulders and rested his head, he refused to close his eyes though.  
He wasn't exactly tense but not overtly relaxed either.

Tom to his credit worked diligently, didn't linger much, and was very careful almost tender, thoroughly coating his insides, hips, and thighs.  
Still, when it was over, Harry was again red like a tomato and Tom didn't make it any easier by playfully slapping his arse.  
“See all better.” he tried to smirk but it came out more like a satisfied smile.

Harry still glared.  
“That was uncalled for.”

This time it was a smirk.  
“Take it as a repayment for my destroyed clothes.” he hummed.

Harry wasn't overtly amused.  
“Destroyed? __Ha!_ _ I bet you ten to twelve that the house elves fixed them already.”  
However Tom's contented hum made strange things in his stomach and heart.

__In what kind of trouble had he gotten himself?_ _

* * *

~ ** ******* ~

* * *

 His prediction was proved correct, they found Tom's clothes pressed, mended, and folded at a chair. Though all that mentioning of clothes had reminded him of Tom's gift, it was already the fourth day and he still haven't given it, time to fix that. Glasses donned, Harry rummaged in the hidden compartment at his trunk, while Tom dressed, until he found it and then threw the package at his partner.

“I'm not sure if was a good idea, or even if you'll like it, but belated Merry Christmas or Happy Birthday, whatever you prefer.” _he couldn't believe he felt so nervous._

Tom sent him an evaluating look while he opened it.  
“I thought that the tradition was to give each other what we wished for birthdays and the like.”  
he commented softly but without any actual censure.

Harry considered it.  
“It may still happen if you want something in particular.” he allowed.  
Neither one mentioned the beads.

Tom didn't answer him; he was humming again while he stroked the fabric, holding it momentarily against him, and even putting it on. The approving look on his face and the careful way he handled it was more telling than any thanks. Harry was happy, (and a bit dry mouthed.)

_He hurried to dress, to avoid getting (or acting) any ill timed ideas._

Tom looked beyond incredible in red, even better than he had imagined. The colour highlighted his exquisite features, creamy skin and dark curls, (hinting a tiny bit about the hidden red in his violet eyes) and making him seem both devilish and angelic at the same time. Not to mention accentuating on his trim waist and broad shoulders.

Honestly, he just took his breath away.

He still ended a bit surprised though.  
“It was a very thoughtful gift. Thank you.” Tom told him softly, as he carefully hanged the shirt for a later use.

Harry blinked at the warmth in his voice; he didn't expect such open appreciation and was somewhat wary of it for a trap,  
but then his lover glanced from behind his shoulder and smirked.

“It will be the perfect thing for tonight's dinner.” he wasn't kidding.  
“Red though, really?” he could hear the teasing smirk/pout even without seeing it.

“You don't seem to mind it all that much.” he teased back. “Why especially tonight though?" he raised an eyebrow.   
"Want to play it Gryffindor to the Head Auror and the Undersecretary?” he continued, only half serious, but really curious all the same.

An instant flash to the other's eyes, Hit.  
“That and to befuddle the hell out of Silveror McGonagall.”  
Tom weirdly confirmed it and sent him another, daring, blood burning, smirk.

He definitely had no problem with the specific scheme though.  
“Count me in.” he smiled back, dangerously.

Then a parcel, a bit larger than his own, was coming towards him.  
"What's that?"

A raised eyebrow.  
“Happy belated Yule my Harry.”

Harry was again surprised; he didn't expect Tom to have a gift for him too.  
He started to open it with barely contained excitement.  
“What about asking for preferences as you mentioned?” he asked flippantly to hide his reaction.

A lightly tapping foot.  
“Check it to see.” Tom's voice was laced with impatience.

Harry got the hint but still didn't hurry much with the unwrapping, for all his own inward eagerness.  
 _Maybe their friends were right (scratch it they certainly were) and he really enjoyed edging Tom._

But as he finally reached to the actual gift he nearly forgotten everything in his astonishment. The emerald coloured, scaly, leathery material was eerily familiar and it took only a bare moment for him to place it. - __But why on earth Tom would have brought him something made by_ _ __a_ _ __Basilisk's shed skin?_ _ Harry's bewilderment only grew whilst he unfolded it to be a long john of all things.

“I shouldn't have let you dress;” Tom observed, “this is meant to be worm as undergarment and we could definitely use a test on its efficacy.” he shrugged, “Never mind, it can happen tomorrow or later tonight.”

Harry was again gaping, looking once at his partner then at his hand, (stuck inside the stretchy, provocatively fastened,  
lightly see-through, garment) and back at Tom, trying to find a single word.  
“I didn't know you were into fetish attire?” he managed with a dry tone but his intense blush betrayed him.

Tom nearly doubled over with laugher.  
“Salazar no!” he regained his dignity with a stern look and a tsk.“It's immensely more useful than that.” a breath, expelling the last remnants of his hilarity. “But I shouldn't have to lecture you in this of all matters.” disdain.

Harry caught on at once but he was still doubtful, (and a bit affronted by the slight.)  
“It can't be protective gear,” he protested, “it may be half an inch thick, but this looks shed no skinned. No offence though.” an afterthought.

Tom sent him a tight little smirk.

“On the contrary, darling, you have no idea.” he shook his head at his apparent ignorance but processed with the explanation anyway.  
“From the usual variety of magical snakes yes, shed skin is nearly worthless, except powdered, but for a Basilisk, especially of such age, it hardly maters. He's the King of Serpents for a reason. The magic soaks through, saturating the skin, and keeping it potent even centuries after it got shed.”

Mind alight with possibilities, Harry had forgotten his irritation.  
“This is brilliant!” he whispered awed. Then he remembered himself and offered a sheepish, half apologetic, grin.  
“I'm sorry.”

Tom supposedly waved him off, but his eyes told Harry that he was going to punish him later, and continued with the lecture.

“It's both far more valuable and extremely rarer than dragon skin. The only thing that can supposedly surpass it is the actual skinned product, but I find it simply unprofitable. Both for it can happen only once and because it's so thick it can hardly be used on anything but cloaks.” a meaningful glance and a smirk, that held neither the remembered reproach nor apology.

Harry got it and wasn't surprised that Tom had had used the Basilisk's corpse from his time, either covering his needs, or for profit, nor blamed him. At the time he had neither the foresight nor needed the money.

He nodded his acceptance, for once, thoroughly impressed.

Tom's smirk widened at Harry's state.  
“Where did you think I found the money I told you about?” the tone was light but his smug look suggested that there was more to this.

Harry gathered himself to return the tease.  
“Oh, I don't know, many things, I thought it was the Riddle fortune you Imperiused them writing to you.” he speculated airily, knowing better than even thinking of them as Tom's family.“Or maybe empting Voldemort's vaults before returning to the past.” he shrugged.

Tom took it completely seriously.  
“You know I had neither the time nor mindset to do such a thing then __–__ _unfortunately_ _ _–__ nor it would have been such a meagre amount.” a pointed look for comparing such unequal sizes. “As for the Riddle fortune, I can't openly touch it so long that Dumbledore is alive.” a half censure.

Harry sent him a fond look.  
“Liar, you covered your tracks way too well, you simply don't want them, unless without other options.”

Tom returned it with a wintering stare.  
“Don't start about ethics.”

He didn't even blink about it.  
“Who's said anything about ethics; this is about your bloody pride and disdain to them." a look,  
"You didn't want the riches so much as to take it from them.”

Tom visibly relaxed with that.  
“You know me too well.”

Harry decided to use that good mood.  
“So? Where did you use the rest of the skin, except of your own catsuit?" he asked very casually,  
 _(catsuits sounded far more cool and dignified than long johns anyway.)_

(He did his very best to avoid picturing Tom into said garment too)

His partner indulged him with a smile.  
“No skin, skins. I've sold a few so far, to Elijah Prince, with the deal to sell even more at due time, but no other catsuits than ours.”

Harry couldn't help a wave of disappointment _-so much with his budding idea-_ (not even a couple house elves could manage six or seven such catsuits at four days) but he hidden it, focusing on other matters.

“A few? How many are those?" he asked archly, more to deflect than any desire to know actual numbers.  
 _Still, something was nagging him about this too._ Tom was on him of course but still answered with a seemly innocent, pseudo-coy, look.

“Ah, about ten so far, no more.” complete nonchalance. “I would have preferred to sell more, of course, but it would have been too risky. Both at overflowing the market, thus flattening the prises, and worse allowing them to fell right into Grindelwald's hands.” he elaborated a bit more.

Instantly Harry had the weak link and focused there.  
“Ten! There's no way you managed to smuggle even half that much out of the school to Zev's father, never mind doing it alone!”

The mere idea boggled the mind, both for the sheer size of the skins and the magic they needed to affect them even a little.  
Tom, too, wasn't the type to volunteer for such a grunt, physical, work, no matter the profit.

Tom merely smirked.  
“Who's said that I moved them via the usual entry, or that I was alone?” the tone was well beyond smug.

That irrigated the hell out of Harry, not to mention hit him exactly where it hurt.  
“No need to bother telling me then, its not like I would have helped or something.”  
his voice was just this edge of frosty. He crossed his arms.

Tom got serious but not exactly apologetic.  
“I knew you would, but I preferred you away at the time, not to mention you were busy by entertaining Minerva dearest.” dryly.

Harry snorted with this but he wasn't going to just drop it, he kept staring.

His partner continued, sounding long suffering...  
“I had Zevi, Abraxas and Alphard help with most of the cutting and packaging and I took everything to the meeting place on Sava's back, via a secret passage that leads on the farther side of the forbidden forest.” ...but disclosing near everything all the same.

Harry's urge to tease Tom that he was becoming soft was suddenly exchanged by something that could be considered anxiety.  
“What about that secret passage?” he asked as delicately he could.

Unexpectedly Tom didn't seem to lose patience with his third degree interrogation.

“It starts from behind the statue and continues even deeper underground, miles and miles into the slimy pipes, until it suddenly shots sharply upwards. Not an easy road on any stretch, and definitely not an advisable route on feet. Still, I will show you around when we return.” surprisingly, he could tell that Tom wasn't overdramatic in his description.

“Thank you.” Harry smiled and nodded his acceptance to the offer but something was still deeply puzzling him, something a bit worrisome.  
“But how the hell Voldemort missed such a blatantly weak spot?” it didn't make any sense.

Tom's expression turned wry.  
“I could say that he never spent enough time into the chamber to discover it and the opportunities it presented but I will be unfair.” he smirked.

“My much discredited ancestor regarded the school above everything else, no matter what the Light side wrote about him, and wasn't to leave it vulnerable even to his descendants. The pipes were, and still are, so well warded that no army or even someone with violent intentions can pass them, not from the returning point.” for all the sardonic expression he wore it was apparent he approved of this.

“Thank Merlin!” Harry let out a sigh of relief. “But I really shouldn't be surprised from this, Slytherin was a founder, of course he would have done his very best to protect the school.” he beamed at a barely mollified Tom, however the urge to tease him returned with a vengeance.  
“And I thought you were becoming a bit too lazy.” he smirked.

“Hardly.” icy tone.  
Tom didn't dignify this further, even with a look, just turned ostentatiously his back, and set to straighten his hair, (aided by 'sleek'an'easy' potion) ignoring him completely. However he spoke again after a couple moments.

“Salazar wasn't the only one you should have trusted, sweetheart. As I just proved to you I'm perfectly capable to find safe ways to protect us without any need of your suicidal stunts.” his voice remained frostily chiding and his back disdainfully turned.  
“But maybe I should have informed you sooner, then we would have avoided the whole wasteful fight.” nevertheless it was a true apology.   
 _(of Tom's sort)_

A huge part of Harry appreciated deeply that apology but he couldn't blindly accept it, there were far more at stake than merely the two of them.  
“What about my friends? How this protects them?” he asked point blank.

Finally Tom turned to look at him; he wore his most wide and irksome of superior smirks.  
“And who exactly do you think can afford or even need basilisk's skin armour but them?” a raised eyebrow. “It was Elijah's Prince first idea to have protective gear for himself and his family, and yes that included Hermione, and I can offer a discount to your family...”

Harry was pleased with the generous offer but he couldn't help himself.  
“What about Mione? It's a bit unseemly to charge so one's fiancée, no?”

Tom merely smirked.  
“Lord Prince has a small inclination that I'm not going to take her from his son, but if I suddenly start giving such generous gifts he may starts doubt my honourable intentions.”

Harry barely held his laugh with the other's way to slid away from tight spots, (he doubted that Zev's father had any true idea of Tom's inclinations) but also doubted that Tom's intentions towards Herm were above board honourable although strictly true in its preconception.

He wasn't done though.  
“What about Minerva?” he tried again.

Tom looked like he barely managed to not sigh heavenwards.  
“Black will take care of her tab as well as his, do you want to ask about Abraxas?” the last part archly.

“No.” Harry knew where to back off, _still, there was something_...  
“Too bad you can't charge her brother.” he wasn't entirely joking.

Tom clucked.  
“If he doesn't cooperate with us maybe I will.” he too wasn't joking.

Harry could really picture it and a part of him enjoyed it, even if it was to become reality, even laughed a little with it, too.

Tom smiled, genuinely pleased with the whole thing, he flicked Harry's nose with a teasing finger.  
“See, everything will be taken care, love.”

Harry was undoubtedly relieved but, for all the laugh and joking aside, a far cry from completely mollified.  
“Really, but you just told me that there aren't any more catsuits? If you are just going to lie to me why bother at all?” hands on his hips, he was going to get straight answers.

Tom's smirk wasn't drop.  
“There was no lie, ours are the only existing catsuits, but there's a plethora of undershirts and tights, cloaks too. Actually we are going to use the cloaks ourselves, as added security and advertising.” he accompanied all these with a wide gesture and returned to fixing his fringe once again.

Harry really truly wanted to hit Tom for his arrogance and inclination to play with semantics and his nerves –that– or to shout at him properly. Instead he chose a much subtler revenge.  
“What about the Aurors?”

The comb was instantly stilled.  
“What about them? They hardly factor in anything regarding this.” Tom didn't sound pleased.

Harry smiled and leaned against the wall.  
“They are definitely prospective clients.”

Tom frowned and seemed like was doing his best to not lose his composure and start shouting.  
“Harry,” he started with apparent forced patience. “Do you really find it wise to give them such an advantage when it could be used against us at a certain point?”

Harry didn't lose his cool.  
“Why? I thought that we had agreed we weren't going to literal war with the ministry.” he put it a bit innocently.

_Alright he was enjoining the hell out of this._

This time Tom loomed right above him.  
“Harry!” the warning wasn't even masked.

Harry's smile became even brighter; he wasn't fazed in the slightest.  
“Even that vulnerability can be controllable if you arrange to sell them only the cloaks. Think about it Tom, in a little while you could control the entire Auror corps' outfit. Good money aside, consider the boost for our campaign.” he didn't need to sugar-coat it any more.

Eyes gleaming with calculations Tom thought it for a moment and then regally nodded.  
“Us not just me, but alright, you have a point. I will write to Elijah about making an offer.”

Harry relaxed (maybe even melting a tiny bit with the inclusion.)  
“Thank you.”

Tom's smile took a devilish edge.  
“Don't thank me. I owed you a favour, didn't I?”

And just like that he was again on edge,  
“I don't think it counts, not when you gain so much and agreed all on your own.” he pointed out hastily.

His partner wasn't particularly pleased, closing even more tightly around him. But, after their eyes met and held for a long time, eventually Tom inclined his head conceding the point.

He wasn't done with him though, examining his head critically and bringing the potioned comb very close to his face.  
“Have you ever thought about using the potion to fix your hair?” he asked way too casually.

Harry ducked his head under the other's arms and slid, a good distance, away as fast he could.  
“Forget it.”

_He would gladly be (and stay) cornered to be kissed, (or more) tolerate Tom’s posturing, or expect it during a fight, but having him comb his hair? SALAZAR NO!  He wasn't the other's doll to be manhandled as he pleased; he had endured it enough for today._

Tom's face lightened up with sadistic amusement.  
“But I thought you disliked the perpetual mess to your hair?” he asked buttery soft as he approached him again.

Harry forced himself to stay where he was and talk calmly - _he wasn't going to look like a cowardly idiot._  
“I do, but I have already tried it and it was of no use.” half truth,  
“I see no reason why we should waste our already pressing time with this.” head high, he wasn't going to back down.

Head tilted to the side Tom examined him once more, burying his hand into the thick hair and rubbing thoughtfully the locks between his fingers. He was again standing extremely close.

“Maybe you just didn't use the right amount.” he pointed softly, “We need to experiment over this,” a hot breath. “but you are right we don't have the time to do it now, it's late. Let's go.” he stepped back and turned to leave, like it was the most normal of exchanges (which weirdly wasn't that far from the mark.)

Harry utilized that the other's back was turned to shake his head clearing it from the momentarily haze.  
“Will see...” he publicly allowed but kept the: _'... When the sun sets on the east.'_ part to himself.

Still, he was really smiling.

He stopped for a moment, to pick the half thrown catsuit and return it on its box but, much to his surprise, he discovered a small black notebook (of the infinite variety that Tom kept for his spellwork) that had missed so far.  
“What's that?” he asked casually, “another instructional book?”

Tom stopped at the door, managing to look inpatient without moving a muscle.  
“No, but leave it for now, it's already eight thirty, move.”

Seeing that he didn't comply, right to the second, his partner returned and grabbed, none too gently, his hand.  
“Geese Tom, where's the fire?” Harry was more amused than annoyed.

It wasn't the case with Tom.  
“Unlike you, golden boy, I prefer to start my day with a bit of breakfast. Come on we can continue our talk there.”

He was getting curious.  
“What more do we need on the specific point?” he asked just to be petulant as they headed for the stairs.

Tom sighed irritably.  
“Not on the particular specifics, business in general. You have a very good head on your shoulders and I will need your help on a specific plan.”

Harry was probably going to help anyway but this still sounded to him like a buttering up.  
“A new one, right now, why? Our vault seemed to have more than the contents of my trust fund when I fist visited it.” he asked lightly.

Tom didn't bother with a lengthy explanation.  
“Politics, like war, needs money.” an oblique look, “I thought that you disliked it when I got donations from our followers.” a bit sharply.

 _Point._ Harry sighed.  
“So long its not going to end up for war, besides with Grindelwald, you know that I will help... _probably_.” he hated to be cornered, figuratively even more so than actually.

Tom sent him a small fond smile.  
“Darling relax, its nothing you will hate.” a small pause for effect... “Besides, if you back me in my plans with Silveror McGonagall, you are going to fix your public acknowledgement problem with the Potters.” dead seriousness for all the obvious bribing and easy tone.

“I'm all ears.” Harry was definitely going to hear any probable advice regarding that problem, hearing didn't mean that he had to follow up though.  
He felt the other's posture minimally relaxing.

At the bottom of the staircase though Tom stiffened imperceptibly and stopped him once again.  
 **“Do I really need to tell you that if you share the mere existence, much less the contents, of a particular book with one Hermione Granger –or the rest of them– I'm going to crucio her to death and never ever touch you again in my life?”** was asked silkily.

Harry didn't expect that right now, although he definitely should have, used as he was in his partner's mercurial moods.  
He nearly chocked on thin air.

**“Salazar Tom! Like I would have. Its not like she would have bugged __–__ _Y_ _ou_ _ _–_ _ about it, or that you would have been the only one unable to live this down.” **

_–S_ _till_ _–_ he wondered morbidly _–_ _if Tom meant to keep equally both threats._

Tom sent him an unimpressed look for his causality and then smiled chillingly.  
“...And yes the second punishment will exclude the bonding, naturally.” the same sweet voice assuring that it was a done deal.

 _Damn legimens!_ Harry had enough with this game.  
“Who's said that the second one will hurt me as much as the first?” he looked innocently up, displaying his eyes at the best possible way.

 _Maybe he shouldn't goat Tom so but he really had it with the other's ego.  
_ Tom didn't glare or offer to test it, just smiled again, in a very specific way, and tilted his head right to his ear.

 **“ **Your idea regarding using the long johns was particularly inspiring, darling, we are definably going to use it later on.”**** he bit his ear sharply and dragged him, from a suddenly unnerved hand, towards the dining room and, once at the door, barely giving him a moment to glamour his instant downwards problem.

Harry was beet red from embarrassment and other things, he wanted to beat Tom, or pay him in kind.

_One thing for certain, even if he searched for it he was never going to find a worse, more narcissist, egocentric, bastard!_

_Not that he really wanted to anyway._

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Serious action resumes on the next part...
> 
> PS Edited at 11/29/2014  
> Please review to inspire me for more...
> 
> PPS I finally concluded the review of the whole story and fixed any mistakes I saw... if by any chance missed some (and probably did) I would really appreciate to have them pointed to me:)  
> Thank you:)


	18. Internal Affairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Politics, Magic, and more... Oh my!  
> (Or alternatively the nerdy chapter:DDP)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its been ages since the last I've posted and I'm not going to offer any excuse/explanation, it will only bore you. I'm just back:D
> 
> Few scant days ago it was my friend's J.F.C's birthday so its sortly dedicated to him:D
> 
> That and to my friends Dueling Heart, Dancyon, and angeliyah who waited patiently for it...

 

** Chapter Eighteen: Internal Affairs  **

_** Tom’s pov ** _

Tom walked into the dining room hiding a smirk. - His lover was going to consider twice from now own before starting on such games. - Not that he really wanted him to stop (he enjoyed them too much for that) but it was the principle of the thing and always -but always- he intended to win them.

“Good morning.” he flashed the full company his most usual genial mask and took his place in one of the empty seats close to Lady Dorea.

The room had been quite noisy -in an insistent, anxious, low buzz way- but every single sound just stopped at once with his entrance and every pair of eyes was instantly trained to him. Quite naturally truly as -very unusual for them- they were fairly late.

The tension didn’t break, not completely, not even when Harry followed him to the room, almost right behind.

“Morning guys, aunt Dorea.” he greeted cheerily.

His partner looked (was) obviously alright and had found a brilliant smile for all of them, not to mention sounding completely natural, but there was still something of his suppressed anger that was unconsciously perceivable and that kept them (and the emotional excesses) at bay.

Only the littlest one present didn’t seem to have such a problem.... Annette Potter had instantly stood up from her seat and had latched to his partner with all her might.

“Harry!” a huge, welcoming, smile that turned rapidly into concern. “You are late... Are you ok? You nearly missed breakfast you know...” she informed him seriously and then pouted.  
“Way over late to go flying with me now...” finally voicing what really bothered her.

That got a truly genuine smile out of Harry.  
“Good morning to you too Annette.” he teased/chastised her gently.

The little girl got the tiniest bit sheepish and looked down... _(more for show in Tom’s estimation)_  
“I’m sorry,” ...then again up, “but Leonard never goes that fast, or I’m allowed to go that high, or make loops.” she sighed mournfully, lowering again her eyes.

Harry appeared to be eating it up, lightly tugging her ponytail with the blue ribbon and its frankly ridiculous attached snitch to comfort her. (His second gift, when the little gnat hadn’t understood her blue bead’s enormous significance and had been disappointed)

“I know, I’m sorry too, kiddo,” he sounded contrite, “and I wanted to go flying with you too, I just overslept.” he started leading her back to the table.

“...Anyway, I know it’s not the same but in a little while the aurors, with their fancy uniforms, will be here.” he exchanged a look with Dorea for permission. “You can watch us train with them and, later on, the flying exercises... Works for you?” he tugged again her hair, for good measure.

The little spoiled gnat stole a glance to her mother and then beamed….  
“....Alright Harry.” ....nodding enthusiastically her consent, seemingly again quite happy.

Another glance for permission and she took to the stairs, stopping for a moment to shout: “Good morning!” and finally _-finally-_ leaving his partner alone.

...Unfortunately the cacophony didn’t end there, as Leonard unwittingly encored it with a worthless shout of: “Be careful” as she descended.

Harry took his place beside him and even accepted to eat something more than a mere coffee cup (he would have probably resisted more but a fleeting memory of their late night informal supper restricted it to a quiet grumbling) barely managing to not blush but totally ignoring him otherwise.

None of the others present noticed the tell-tale reaction, although they seemed eased by his relaxing attitude, and the table talk returned to normal. But then they started inquiring about Harry’s own research’s success, to which he responded positively -leaving it vague- and, following that, they reciprocated with their very own evening adventures, very carefully avoiding asking Tom about his own... _(skilfully so, without excluding him)_

Tom very kindly allowed them to draw him in but he _-definitely-_ had to draw the line and tune out when the talk came to the, mind numbing, point of Minerva’s freshly bough wedding robes (by the women) or the even worse one about organising the ceremony. _(-Totally irrelevant to him, even as reference-)_ Including all trifle and/or irritating details about it _(well beyond boring)_ and _-worse still-_ Alphard’s ongoing inane complains -that he had to wait for the ceremony to see it (her)- and Leonard’s asinine teasing.

_He was losing IQ points here!_

Weirdly enough his partner suffered the topic far less awkwardly than him and even participated, between bites, at the lightest teasing - seemingly happy. Granger too appeared like she wanted to talk about other, more serious, things but was -also- woman enough to be swayed by the subject of wedding robes...

Unfortunately, for him, it wasn’t actually possible to avoid the vapid-inane subject completely. Their gracious hostess appeared to have an additional agenda at this and had taken a very keen interest in his and Harry’s opinions, to the blunt point of directly asking about clarifications and details, to his utter dismay.

Still Harry answered away, absent-minded, (definitely hadn’t made the connection yet) until a very particular direct question: -about fully following Druidic tradition regarding their bonding robes- (and consequently absolutely nothing underneath) made him blush and stammer, shattering his usual unruffled mask for once.

Tom had to hide his smirk; _\- his partner was supposedly ignoring him now and really didn’t care -at all- about what he thought..._ (And yet the idiots continued on, oblivious. Once again not even having guessed yet about their reconciliation!)

_Still, - maybe this topic was actually worthy of some thought..._

He had never put an actual consideration about bothering with any actual sort, of wedding ceremony, as it was both unneeded and illegal (making it pointless) but perhaps it wasn’t exactly so dry cut after all.

Tom had every intention to publicly claim Harry as his own when the time was right, -making it abundantly clear -to everyone- that he had never been anything but his- and maybe this was the perfect way for him to achieve it... Their bonding ritual was something he intended to keep private for all time -for obvious reasons- but a Druidic bonding didn’t hold such high risks. They could get outed or even openly announce their marriage to the world themselves, -say right now- and yet no one will ever be able to take it from them.

The public outcry will be great, of course, setting his plans quite some years back. But no Chief Warlock, nor Minister -or even law- will be able to prosecute them for it, or deny its validation - _Magic had that distinct advantage above any legislation._

_This could be, of course, only the very last ditch effort plan..._

_Additionally, Druidic bonding was still a ritual -though admittedly simpler- and not one opposing their own. He could use it as the preliminary -easing- measure and stabilising factor._

Tom sent Dorea his warmest smile and started laying down the needed timeframe and all his specific requirements... Harry didn’t take it that well, sending him a flinty look the very moment he started speaking (although the intense blush to his cheeks ruined the effect to a certain point) but had the good manners to wait until he was finished before opposing him, or laying down his own law.

(He had absolutely no problem with the latter, or with a bit of a challenge. Harry had as much right to set things to his tastes (which coincidentally usually fit with his own, if a bit simpler) or delay it... On the other hand the last thing he wanted was an extended hassle concerning those bothersome frills, so at either reaction it could work to his favour)

Unfortunately, or fortunately, Harry wasn’t given the chance to share his views.

The exchange with Dorea was finally enough for his followers to at last catch on... They kept it relatively respectful -meaning merely the droppings of some cutlery- as they knew much better than ever dare interrupt him... However, it was a vastly different matter afterwards... and the noise calibrator started to rise...

“So you two are back together?” Alphard was the very -brave- volunteer that had dared to rise above the general chaos and ask clarification over such an obvious thing, making the others hypocritically choke and cringe.

Harry blushed a bit more and replied merely with a hasty:  
“Yeah.”

Tom however, sent them all an icy smile, deciding to leave Black’s chastisement for later, as he really had to settle a certain point.  
“We never stopped.” he stated simply. _\- It was the truth, even when he considered killing Harry he never seriously entertained to abandon his claim._

He nearly regretted opening his mouth.

The almost collective ‘AWW’ expression, he saw directed to them, was so mawkish that literally set his teeth on a breaking edge... Thankfully his partner interfered just before he could reply with something way too unfittingly scatting - for present company _(...he still had some appearances to maintain...)_

“Look guys I appreciate it... But, as this is about Minerva and Alphard, not us, I really hate the idea to hijack things.”

Harry’s tone was lightly biting, not even sparing a single glance towards him -continuing in his pursuit to ignore him- yet offered a gentle smile towards Dorea, to show that he meant her no insult.

Dorea nodded her acceptance to this and Tom hid his smile. If Harry believed it was the end of it he was mistaken _-they had time-_ The others had no actual stake in this, at all -though took the dig to their manners- and they were happy and very obliging with returning in their stress-free and entertaining nonsense.

 _Entertaining for them, of course, not him._ Not that he showed any hint of how mind rotting he was finding it... _Really! Sometimes his acting talent, patience, and polite mask astounded even Tom!_

Thankfully, he wasn’t the only one feeling that way. His partner had finally enough of it as well, to the point of getting lost in thought and gradually dropping out the discussion. A few moments more and he started sending him converted glances.

Their eyes met, Tom hid his smirk _\- Harry wasn’t going to hold out for long now..._

Harry’s stubbornness won out once more though and, instead of addressing him, he purposefully set his porridge and coffee aside to be taken and, sending him a playful yet defiant look, conjured parchment, ink, and a quill...

Tom didn’t mind it much _\- truly._ Harry could try making as many points he wanted. The very deliberation of his action and -even more so- that he had _-again-_ forgot to warn his Greek friend, up till now, were all the points he needed and more than just an indication to the true score - so, -again- a hidden victory...

His patience was rewarded at least, when the letter was done, and Harry turned to him, finally dropping his ego and that petulant, irritating, pretence of ignoring him.

 **“** **...You had mentioned something about finding a way to keep the Potters from wanting to openly acknowledge me?”** his voice was still tense but the mere fact that he had deigned speak to him and, even more so, the value and sensitivity of the subject was once again an acquiesce - a notable one at that.

This time Tom smiled openly.

**“I doubt that this, or anything truly, can convince them to completely abandon the idea, but it will be more than enough in persuading them to wait until it would not impede your future.”**

His reply seemed to leave Harry truly floored.  
**“What on earth do you mean by that?”**

Tom thoroughly enjoyed it.  
**“I thought that you intended to read about Magical Lords and their definitions.”** he countered it mildly.

Harry looked just a step away from growling.  
**“I did, but you are changing the subject.”**

Tom didn’t bat a single eyelash to this and after a moment his partner took a deep breath, to centre himself, and then spoke.  
**“Alright, what it has to do with this?”**

Tom leaned the tiniest bit back to his chair, turning it a little, so that he could face Harry right on.  
**“What exactly did you find out?”** he was so going to enjoy this.

A flash to Harry’s eyes told him that he was still -at least somewhat- angry with him but his lover was far too much of a player to show more weakness. All the same he was still far from happy.

 **“** **You were telling me the actual truth, at the hospital wing: Lord is indeed a power level, the highest one that a person can be born with.”** he admitted.

His voice betrayed just the barest hint of discomfort with heartily accepting that he could actually be so powerful -albeit faintly so - so, that in all probability, Harry himself wasn’t truly aware of it- and Tom cursed the Dursleys _-|-for Nth time yet-|-_ and the damage they had done to his lover, swearing to himself, once more, to deal with them _-very suitably-_ at the right time...

However, he had enough practice to the matter _-a thoroughly extended one at that-_ to not show anything of this to his Harry and merely smiled.  
**“Just that, sweetheart? I’m disappointed.”** he teased.

Harry replied with a dry, very unimpressed, look for his attitude - while any other of their circle (minus Dorea of course) would have quailed under such a blow.

 **“** **Really?”** he mocked him right back, **“Its just informs that the very first usage and spreading of the term occurred at the fourteenth century and mentions that the power level was previously called a Mage -which is still occasionally used abroad- but nothing more relevant. So, in the end, it seemed all academics to me.”**

Tom returned the look, just as unimpressed.

 **“** **...And Archmage when the person with the potential also has the analogous knowledge to back it up, but yes really.”** he leaned a bit closer, staring intensely, **“I believe that it gives more than enough parameters to research it further - even for you.”** a sigh.

 **“** **Honestly, darling, weren’t you even a little bit curious with the specific timing, or at such pointed disparity?”** he asked very sweetly.

Harry frowned at this, taking a moment to weight between the information and his light rebuke/dangerous sweetness, then just shrugged both.

 **“Maybe so. But, as I was busy researching other things, I couldn’t really spare the time.”** he blushed, just the barest bit, but looked defiant all the same.

Tom couldn’t help smirking with that admittance; Harry scolded then cleared his throat...

**“Anyway, I won’t say it’s boring like Goblin wars -or totally useless- but it can’t be much better. We British tend to do things our way and the appointment of any kind of hereditary title rests within the Queen, or currently the King, so I really can’t see this having any true practical application. ”**

Tom wasn’t disappointed with such common answer, mostly because the correct one was so ridiculously obscured from public, but _-then-_ that didn’t mean he was anywhere close to approve of such ignorance.

He delayed his reply for a long moment, letting the tension built and gathering the entirety of Harry’s attention, then steepled his hands and intoned a single word.

**“Wrong.”**

As he expected it didn’t sit that well with his partner.

 **“** **What on earth do you mean by wrong? Last time I’ve checked we were still under the Queen’s, sorry the King’s, rule. Don’t tell me you intend to challenge even this?”** Harry nearly spluttered.

Tom held no such intentions, at least not directly, and definitely not when the very system was actually to his benefit... He smiled (only with half sarcasm) and lightly tapped a (barely lingering) teasing finger at Harry‘s lips.

**“Didn’t even crossed my mind, darling. Now cease overreacting, it stops you from thinking, and put your mind to work. I know that you can find it.”**

Harry pretended to avoid it (blushing again) and sent him a mock glare, (one that turned instantly real, as he guessed the hidden catch) but put indeed his mind to work and had the answer ready in less than a second.

**“I assume then that there must be a ministerial law to that effect. The question is how much came purely from the Ministry and how much -if any at all- came from the Monarch and/or is according with the constitution?”**

This time Tom’s smile held actual pride and he wasn’t at the least bit surprised that his partner had instantly latched on the right answer and, even more so, asked all the right questions about it, even the probable legal distinctions.

 **“** **Actually it pre-dates both the current Ministry of Magic and even the Constitution itself -in all but Magna Carta-”** he smiled, **“and was the very exact way all the Noble Magical Houses of Britain consolidated their power. -Every single one of them- even recently. It was a special provision from Queen Elizabeth I...”**

 **“** **Tom...”** Harry half whined half growled.

Tom hid a smirk and continued... _\- If Harry didn’t want the whole history lesson he should have studied it up himself._

**“Coming alongside the official recognition of Wizard council’s authority and even Diagon Alley’s foundation-something about acknowledging the Wizarding world’s natural leaders. Every wizard and witch, regardless of blood status, if nominated, can undertake certain tests to the Ministry and if he/she manage pass the power, intelligence, and judgement’s ones -to a certain point- gains a place in the House of Lords and the Wizengamot.”**

His explanation had the _-very-_ unusual effect of truly shutting up Harry...

His partner looked ready to burst with questions but, for once, contained himself until he was done, all the while literally sponging Tom‘s every single word _\- it was delicious!_ Finally, Tom himself needed to draw a breath, and he exploded.

 **“** **Why on Earth this is not taught at History of Magic class, as in at all? Or, at the very least, properly explained in books, instead of barely hinted at? It seems as far more relevant and useful to me than all those crappy Goblin rebellions...”** he exclaimed in total disbelief.

Tom’s lips twitched with this and he had to try very hard to hide his amusement... Harry had gone very far from his early Gryffindor naiveté (…and he had never been so completely naive anyway…) yet he still, somehow, came with moments like this.

 **“** **Do you really need to ask, golden boy? Or do you really believe that the Ministry -any Ministry- of any affinity and allegiance, would be truly comfortable with such a constant possible breach into their midst? They buried it as under they could and declared it obsolete at the first chance they were given.”** he managed to not spat the words.

Unsurprisingly enough Harry managed to read him, for all his guard, and send an inquiring glance, but was kind enough to continue on the present subject _\- kind to a certain point of course._

 **“** **What about Voldemort though? How the hell did he manage to miss such a golden chance?”** he just looked at him with curious eyes, **“I mean the law must have still been on some effect, or you wouldn’t have been bothered to mention it...”** rubbing entirely self-consciously the back of his head.

 **“** **It really doesn’t makes any sense at all, I mean I doubt that he truly couldn’t pass sanity’s test, in the start, or even fake it later on..?”** for all that his questions cut like daggers Harry looked honestly puzzled.

Somehow the words ‘fake it’ hit him as absurdly funny however the specific topic and, even more so, the reply he had to this- negated any true amusement, even from Harry’s wit. He may not care, at least not in the way his lover did... but the mere thought of the wasted war effort, wasted years and even wasted Magical lives was enough to set his blood boiling...but then again that particular abettor had always had that effect on him.

 **“** **Dumbledore again!”** he hissed with true poison, **“...He set the notion that the law should be obsolete, by denying to acknowledge it, never mind testing, when he defeated Grindelwald. The Ministry was entirely too happy to follow into his noble example.”**

Not really surprisingly Harry wasn’t shocked by this and reacted levelly to his ire.

 **“** **All right then, we need to act before Dumbledore.”** he acknowledged, then smiled. **“I don’t suppose that’s the reason you were all eager for us to fight Grindelwald..”** it was only a half question.

Tom smiled back.

**“It doesn’t hurt, but no... What we really, truly, need are three Heads of Noble Houses to recommend us -probably for each- and a ministerial worker, preferably a Silveror, to make the paperwork...”**

Harry opened his mouth to speak but Tom continued...

**“...and yes, your great-grandfather -or grandfather in case he turns up dead- won’t do it for you, it will only give you full dominance on House Potter without any added status..”**

He expected Harry to be deeply pleased about this (..minus the part about his great-grandfather of course..) but not his barely hidden smirk.

 **“** **All right then, Elijah Prince will probably help, the same with Black, though he’ll definitely ask for something, but I doubt that Caius Malfoy will help us on anything and he’s not even in the Wizengamot at the first place.”** the smirk widened a bit although his voice remained unassuming.

 **“** **...You’d better try to patch things up with Bones, even a little bit, and maybe not scare McGonagall way too much.”** a pointed look if the rest weren’t enough.

Tom wanted to scoff -at the very suggestion- and maybe even curse Harry a bit for making it _(he hated even the mere thought of making ‘‘nice’’ with Bones)_ but refused to lose the game between them, for this, and -though loathed to admit it- his partner was right and Bones would be a much-much preferred ally than an acknowledged enemy - especially in his full capability to counter Dumbledore’s propaganda against them.

 **“** **Scare Silveror McGonagall...Why my Harry? I have been acquiring allies’ way long before you got into the game.”** it wasn’t entirely of humour.

 **“** **Should I call you old man then?”** Harry teased him back insolently but with a slight look of acknowledgement all the same. Tom just ignored the whole comment.

 **“** **...and anyway why would I need to be careful and not you? The estimable Silveror has the reputation of a Light fanatic and you haven’t even played it as purely Light for years.”** that fact was deeply pleasing him.

Weirdly Harry just scowled.  
**“Indeed but, as he was all set to ignore it, I would -much- preferred it if he wasn’t entirely focused on me.”**

Tom smiled.  
**“Don’t worry, darling, I will carry my weight...”** _‘On both cases.’_ but Harry knew him so well to not need outright voice it.

_Maybe a bit too well..._

Having caught on everything _-even the small fact that he never actually blasted his distasteful suggestion about Bones-_ Harry just beamed at him and Tom found himself returning the smile - although he felt his hand quite itching him to fix that overbearing sweetness.

He never settled on how exactly he wanted to do it a discreet cough from Granger -who obliviously had finally lost her patience with them- reminded him the others’ presence in the room and that _-even worse so-_ they were utterly ignoring them for several minutes. Harry blushed scarlet.

Tom felt nothing of the sort, but could pretend a good facsimile, so nodded his apology to their hosts -to Dorea’s gentle and discreet amusement and Leonard’s blatant one- _(whatever punishment he chose to apply, he really had it coming)_

However his look to Hermione held not even a bare scrap of such pretence.  
“You wanted something Hermione?” he asked her pleasantly enough... Hermione got the hidden threat, paled a little bit, but still didn’t back off.

“Yes, and it concerns us all.... It’s about the auditory communication spell, it truly needs to be finished today but, as neither of you showed up -as promised- I was unable to get it right.” her glare was mostly aimed at Harry but wasn’t letting him out completely.

Harry, unsurprisingly enough, had instantly grown guilty.  
“I’m really sorry, Mione, please let me help you now, alright?” he smiled hopefully.

Hermione grumbled something unintelligible but relented all the same with a sour: “You’d better.” but the sourer look she dared send -to him- was forbidding and held absolutely no compromise. _(She definitely didn’t want him near the project)_

It was Tom’s turn to be surprised -and so to examine her a bit more critically- as Hermione usually avoided to push the envelope with him (and even then never quite like Harry) but the sheer frustration (and the betrayed tiredness) in her voice was both intriguing and explained her sass.

She may have gone shopping with Minerva, when deserted, but at the same time spent nearly half -or more- of the previous night trying to find the perfect runic/ arithmetic combination to make her spell work for herself, Harry, and his followers, even under his block...

She hadn’t succeeded of course, which filled Tom with smug pleasure.

(However that exact pleasure (together with the sheer work she did) were the sole reasons he could tolerate her current tone and behaviour _-not that there weren’t going to have a long talk in due time-_ but he knew that those talks bothered her even worse than a possible torture/punishing season and that just made it downright amusing considering the sheer limitation...)

Meanwhile Harry and Hermione had gone into deep technical speak, Tom watched everything attentively but hadn’t bothered with offering a suggestion, yet. But his partner noticed his attention and blushing _(for the fourth time this morning)_ with the full realization that he had once again lost himself in an inclusive discussion, stopped (making Granger to realise it too _\- and consequently look even worse so)_ and looking everyone to his/her eyes, offered a shame faced:

“Forgive me.” then he grabbed Granger’s hand and with a soft, hastily muttered, “Excuse us.” they were gone - in all probability for the library...

Zevi (who incidentally looked just as bad as Hermione under his glamours) made a furtive move to follow them but Tom nodded him to stay right in place.

A long edgy silence followed this as his followers tried, with literally bated breath, to gape his reactions/intentions. He allowed himself just a moment more to enjoy their discomfort and then leaned the barest bit back to his chair, half hiding a smirk. Only Dorea seemed once again oblivious to the whole power-play, as she continued calmly with her coffee -her second cup in his presence- but that, he suspected, was just a part of her mask.

Sensing that the danger was now over his followers started to relax as well, all but Prince, that’s it... Leonard and Alphard caught discretely his eye to be sure they weren’t needed as well and hurried to be excused, by Dorea, taking Minerva with them. Malfoy waited a couple moments, for a more dignified exit, and followed suit.

Dorea had watched all of this with veiled amusement and, when even Abraxas had left, regarded him with a very small smile.  
“I take it that you don’t plan to cause mayhem and/or damage the house?”

For a moment Tom felt utterly humiliated (and so beyond enraged) that she would choose to remind him his acute loss of control but, a nanosecond later, his vision cleared with the realization that she meant no insult. Her voice was full of gentle teasing and not a drop of reproach and/or scorn (the same with her eyes) that, and maybe a small, firm, assert that this was still her house and that she still had the full dominance over it.

He could hardly blame her for that one and had absolutely no intention to let her feeling that way. Tom would never lie to himself and deny he was enjoying her veiled weariness, or that he wouldn’t have enjoyed her fear a bit more. However he was too good a player to even think of indulging himself on that regard...

Voldemort had lost the loyalty to the near majority to his followers due to that fear - Now one could argue that it played nary a place in his downfall but, even if it held some validity, the salient point was that Tom was far from Gramps’ lofty point in his career and he couldn’t afford it... He needed all and any follower/ally he could find and could alienate none of them.

Actually even if he -could- in fact afford it, he still wasn’t going to allow himself to become mad and totally undiscriminating with his power... He hardly needed Harry’s advice to that regard. It may not have been the final nail dug in Voldemort’s coffin but it had made Gramps utterly ineffective and so, in all probability, would have made him lose even without his interference...

Tom knew much better now. Fear was only part of the equation, not the whole, and even then delicately handled. For if it slipped into downright terror it would either turn then to bumbling fools or worse, if they managed to get past it -and they would, for no actual human being is able to maintain that state indefinitely- to plain traitors - he needed a fine edge not a bloodied axe. He had learned a lot into the future...

Thankfully he had far more things going for him...

It took him barely half a moment to conjure writing supplies and then he started on his agreed letter, towards Elijah Prince. He needed to work it very carefully as, while he didn’t doubt that the elder Prince had completed the undergarments for his followers and would have already started working the skins as well, fifty pieces, even if they were merely cloaks, made in mere three days, were all but impossible to be done.

The profit was of course to be considerable, not to mention the options it opened, but only if he managed to catch the deadline, otherwise all the extra workers he needed to hire -both wizards and house elves- would prove crippling cost wise, so there was a good chance he would deny him and he didn’t have much, expect his persuasion, to convince him.

Suddenly a Harry’s type of inspiration hit him and he added one last line, asking for a child-sized cloak as well...

It would certainly help him on both cases: clearing the slate with Dorea -and in all probability get her right at his feet- if he had calculated right (and he was sure he had) her concern for her gnat offspring and the extent of her gratitude for said pest’s safety. That and get him on Prince’s softer side, as another devoted parent, so it would surely trip the scales to his favour...

If it didn’t... There was, of course, the originally intended weapon...

Letter done, he passed it over at Zevi to add his own part. The Prince heir took his time, examining carefully every single word and even asking some clarifications - all while expertly hiding a smile, though Tom could sense both approval and a slight hint of amusement over his last order...

Tom didn’t mind this at all, he valued Zevi for his good sense - donations were one thing, gambling his entire family fortune merely on his word quite another...  
_If Prince had done so he would have busted him down with his lower followers, maybe even lower than Parkinson..._

Having settled things into his mind Zevi conjured a second parchment and added his own points to his father, giving it to Tom for inspection. It was sufficient and he summoned a house elf to send it its way...

Tom was pleased... hopefully their combined arguments were going to be enough for Elijah... If not -or worse the idiots denied his very generous offer- he frankly didn’t care if there were injuries, or even a few casualties -on the Aurors’ case- at the battle - so long it didn’t shift the balance into enemy’s favour, that’s it. But he rather doubted it could have that much of an effect... It would probably make them all the more eager to buy the cloaks if they were witness to their effectiveness in comparison...

He had done all he was willing to and Harry should be happy with that...

Speaking of Harry though, he had allowed them more than enough time to work on the problem; it was time for him to set up his terms... A commanding nod at Prince to came along, followed by a polite smile to their hostess, and they were set for the library and their presumptuous partners...

* * *

~*~

* * *

Expectantly enough, they found Harry and Hermione working diligently together at the oak table, with the spell essentially completed. It was just as unsurprisingly that were expecting him, as no matter how much they had progressed -and they had, a truly dangerous amount, he suspected- it wasn’t yet certain that it would last on his followers for an indefinite time...

Harry’s glare in particular was hot enough that it could have cut him like needles if he had put the barest magic behind it, but Tom ignored it, sat beside him and, just to add insult to injury, nagged the parchments with their work right from their very hands...

“Watch it!” Harry continued to glare and crossed his arms but, as he didn’t put the most intense of fights, or even slapped his hands away, Tom chose to take it as acceptance and started to read.

A moment later he was so immersed that even the points between them became secondary to count _\- for right now..._ He barely noticed the: “Leave him be.” from Hermione... or that Prince sat beside her...

The spell by itself, in the first parchment, was a brilliant piece of magic, exquisitely crafted and blending together Harry’s sheer ingeniousness in practical matters as well his adaptability and creativity, together with Hermione’s steel trap of a mind, organization skills, vast knowledge - and with some insights coming from future’s technological achievements.

\- In sort, one of the very best, if not ‘The Best’, modern spellworks he had ever encountered! _(- not counting yours’ truly, of course...)_  
The notes/adaptations to his block took it even further...

Tom saw, with no mild alarm, that they had already doubled his allotted time, though -thankfully- they hadn’t got proof of it yet. But the conclusion was definite: had he given them another quarter, twenty minutes the most, their combined intelligence, Harry’s inner knowledge to his work and the presence of their own unique marks, to experiment with, would have allowed them to utterly discard his involvement - he had got there just in time!

...When Tom put down the parchments, and met their expectant eyes, he allowed the barest bit of approval to show, and even that as half condescension.  
“Not completely bad a work,” he declared. “It’s passable!”

As expected, Hermione spluttered in wounded outrage for the professional insult.

“Passable?” she nearly screeched, “I’ll have you know it’s near perfect.-” she stared him frankly, with nearly the same hauteur as his own, but the doubt won at the end and she bit her lower lip, mentally searching up for mistakes.

Then her confidence returned...  
“At least for the time I had to work with, it’s perfect.” she declared.

Zevi looked a bit uncomfortable, but nodded steadily his agreement, nonetheless, supporting her. Harry didn’t need to speak or meet his gaze -though Tom felt it pin him right on place- Harry was like a stone wall between them, resting a hand to Hermione’s shoulder and daring him to insult her some more...

_Not that she actually needed their help._

Tom had gotten the message: he could manipulate, dazzle, overwhelm and even intimidate her to a great deal of things but not in this.- She respected, was even awed, by his greatest magical prowess but, on the academic side of things, they were totally toe to toe. He had seen that -better than ever- at the month they were working together to find a cure... She may have needed a few more hours of sleep or, alternatively, some more stimulants, but the piles of books she got through were no less impressive than his own and her suggestions no less intelligent...

_(They may have, terrifyingly so, to follow though with some of them, or mixing them with his own, if they couldn’t crack the Stone. - and yes, he would hate her with his entire being to infinity, if she managed to do it before him, but he actually preferred that outcome to losing Harry...)_

He had found her limit and breaking point; he would handle her much better from now on. At least, she hadn’t responded with a _‘You wanted better, you should have been here to help.’_ or something equally mulish and Gryffindorish - or worse yet, openly speak about his sabotage, and so to interfere in his dealings with Harry...  
_\- She was learning!_

He offered her a curt nod of acknowledgement.

Honestly, he was more worried about Harry’s quiet reaction, Tom could sense that the annoyance was still there, but it was tempered with patience and yet the same unwavering, calculated, composure. - Composure and expectation...

The message was clear: Treat with caution - or more specifically: ‘You can ask, and you will probably get it, but not blackmail - and certainly not force, or get behind...’

Suddenly a disparity, he had half-dismissed at the adaptation spell, made a lot of sense and he nearly cursed his sheer carelessness out loud. As it was he barely managed to not betray his thoughts to the two witnesses. - Harry knew perfectly well how to outwit him regarding this spell, he didn’t really need Hermione’s help to that regard -He had learned how to completely erase his mark, by Marvolo, he certainly hadn’t just sat to that knowledge, during the last one and a half years, but had expanded it accordingly- The spell may not have been as efficient, or elegant, without Granger there, but it was certainly doable.

He had intentionally fudged the details -and probably misled her once or two- to not betray his secrets if he didn’t have to (it would have been hell to pay if he had, even to his closest followers) but he could try to return the courtesy _\- this time._

He indicated to Harry that he had understood and felt the barest relaxation to his shoulders in reply... (The whole debate in his mind and their exchange not taking more than a second or two) _Time to get what he came here for..._

“The spell is great, I must admit,” he put it as a continuation to his previous gesture, “but it doesn’t exactly cover my needs.” there, he couldn’t have put it any plainer...  
_...And it certainly stung, to be on the other side, but not as bad as he expected..._

 _“_ What do you want and need, Tom?” Harry was prompt, at least...

Tom smiled a little. _\- If his Harry decided to play it difficult he had at least eight favours to ask, plenty to get his way and keep Harry safe..._

“I want a tracking/identification spell to all those under the communication spell, well the aurors, but the rest can’t be helped...” the smirk was obvious to his voice.

However Harry coiled and coiled tensely to himself with his every word and finally exploded, cutting him mid-phrase - for the nth time yet during their acquaintance.  
“Are you insane?” _he really needed to cut him that disgusting habit..._

Tom turned around and looked -purposely- at Harry, for the first time since he sat at that table.

“No, love, but I would have been, if I hadn’t looked out for us, after what you asked.” he told him sweetly, stretching the word love to caution him, but it came out more like exasperation than anything else.

Harry to his credit didn’t have stupid to his various failings, so got it. Unfortunately it wasn’t nearly enough to stop him...  
“Even so, you wanted it long before agreeing to the cloaks, what you are up to?”

Tom debated inside if it was better to just force the issue, but no, it wasn’t worth a whole favour.

“Harry,” he tried again, with definitely less patience, “Don’t tell me you trust them that much, to not turn against us, without any pre-emptive measure - you are not that naïve. Your demand just moved things from desired to necessary.-”

Harry to his credit thought about it but -before he could answer him- Hermione interrupted them.  
“Moving against us, why? And what about those cloaks?” she asked fretfully.

She looked white as sheet, both from worry due a potential threat to them and/or the prospect of themselves becoming one. Zevi looked close to fretful as well, but was more composed, as he had a good deal of the pertinent pieces.

Tom favoured her with a lethal glare - and he would have added a stinging curse, if Harry wasn’t so agitated. _As it was, the promise of it would have to do..._  
“Ask Prince.” glaring her down once more and adding: “Later.” when she dared to reopen her mouth.

Harry favoured him in turn with a sharp look, for his tone, but his reply was more levelled, by far, to that he expected.

“Say I get it.”-and Tom could tell he really did, this wasn’t sarcasm-“Will we be able to get away with it, or just end up with a whole crapload of trouble with the law?”

Meaning the whole mess with Amelia and House Bones... _That was, of course, the crux of the matter…_ Tom would have truly liked to just dismiss the whole argument; unfortunately Harry had both a point and the right to ask.

Point or not, he wasn’t going to allow vulgarities...  
“Language!” he admonished at the same moment while Prince exploded into a coughing fit due to Harry’s exact turn of phrase.

Tom sent him a dry look but beckoned him to offer his two Knut’s worth as well. Prince coughed once more, to clear his throat, and did.

“Harry is right, I believe. Auror Bones has both the reputation and seems though as a competent man, he will test every kind of equipment we’ll give him for every curse under the sun and then some.”

Tom wanted to pinch his nose from sheer frustration. _\- When had this turned into a democracy instead of his sweet dictatorship?_ ...At least it didn’t bother him that much when it wasn’t Harry the one praising Bones...

He sent them a confident look instead.

“I know, that’s why I have very specific plan!” -and I’ll need your help with- the last part wasn’t voiced, but heard nonetheless, and a vein started popping at Tom’s temple for the perceived weakness...

_There were going to pay -Harry most of all- for making him explain it like that..._

Harry bumped his shoulder, in silent encouragement.  
-Seemed like he decided he wasn’t angry any more- and the others leaned towards him to hear better.

“Please, Tom?” Hermione was again more curious than worried...

“We are all ears, my Lord.”...and Zevi knew how to deal with this particular mood.

Equilibrium back, where it should, Tom started with his own questions...  
“What are your foci for the communication spell?”

“A pair of Celestite stud earrings, here...” Hermione fished a small bag from her pocket. There were four identical earrings in total, but two of them were far more carefully wrapped.

Tom selected the secondary pairing and started examining it, testing their innate magical energy and Hermione’s additions - not with the final spell yet, but close enough. Also there was a steady, but discreet, current of simpatico between the pairs (excellent) and (better yet) perforated silver binding, so that the crystal would get in touch with naked skin.

“How much longer do they have?

Hermione seemed to ponder...  
“Three days, maybe three and a half, but not four. I wouldn’t suggest wearing them to the battle; they could disappear right in the middle...”

Tom made a tsking noise, he hadn’t asked for that.

“I want you to rune them, right now, so that if Bones asks you to charm them right in front of his eyes you could do it, presenting an innocent front, yet ensuring a concurrent enchantment in all pairs, present or future.” a breath. “Can you do it?”

Hermione nodded, near happily, as his plan started to take form into her mind, and Tom continued.

“The main trick is to keep the extra pair hidden from him, even to your mind…” he stressed the last part. Hermione frowned, as displeased, but nodded positively once again.

He started again.

“That and if your Auror friends ask about them lie -convincingly- and say they’d already expired. Can you do that?” it was more of an order, again, than suggestion, and one highly unneeded, but definitely amusing.

Hermione frowned even worse, with this. “Of course I can.” she replied huffily, “You know I can lie.”

 _That she could!_ -and Tom remembered clearly her high -nearly professional- skill, especially if it was employed to Harry’s protection...

“Geese, Tom. We are not idiots!” Harry sounded near the end of his rope.  
Tom sent him an unrepentant smirk.

“Good, then you will have no problem casting the final communication spell on the main pair and making it appear like it’s done on bulk.” teasing and sarcasm aside it was a crucial deception...

Harry’s smile was totally mirthless.  
“Don’t know, Tom, maybe you’ll need to ask Annette, or someone her age.”

Tom would have normally answered to that one with a chortle -or a curse, if it was someone else- but, as he brought it to himself, kept his mouth shut.

“What about me, Tom?” Zevi questioned to ease the tension.

He, definitely, had a task for Prince as well...  
“I take it you are well versed, if not proficient, to the magic concealing potion?”

The concoction was close to, if not near above, a common Potion Master’s level, for all its brief preparation time -of all three hours- not to mention highly illegal. However, for such a potions versed family, and more -one casually moonlighting in smuggling- it was a fair bet.

Prince’s smile was full of teeth.  
“But of course. I’ll owl the family to send me any missing ingredients.”

Something like the shadow of disapproval passed from Hermione’s face but, as it was nothing compared to her previous ‘two goody shoes’ rants, he didn’t bother to say anything to her.

“Good.” he checked the time. 9:20. “We can wrap this, for now, and continue after our estimated guests leave us for the evening.”

Prince and Granger had a lot to do, so agree without protest, but Harry -and he should have expected that one- was a very different case.  
“What about the other thing you wanted and I’ve cut you before?”

Tom’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, the tone was kind - even eager to be utterly done with this, but he could sense some kind of danger.

“So good of you to remember.” he answered at the exact same intonation...  
“Yes, I want something more.”

He waited a single moment, to have everyone’s attention all to him, then continued:

“I want to add one more spell, one that would allow us to enact the communication spell, without their knowledge and long-long after all spare earrings would have returned to ether.”

Harry choked on his very breath.

“You want us to outright spy to the Aurors? You truly are mad! I’m not going to take a part in such a scheme.” he sounded angry, even steely, but Tom could sense that he was actually close to panic.

Still, unamused wasn’t even covering what Tom felt...

“Wrong, darling. Spying would have implied an intentional eavesdropping spree, active magic. My plan counts on only catching word if they’d directly mention us, nothing else - passive magic, virtually undetectable.”

Shamed was too poor a word to describe Harry at that specific moment, beet red, and looking down like an errand student.

“So you don’t want to spy on the aurors, to get a hold to them, or maybe set a trap if they’d become too annoying.” still, for all the shamefaced expression and the fully downcast eyes, Harry’s voice (and spirit) remained fully uncompromising.

“Tempting but no, too risky.” a gentle smirk graced Tom’s features and he cupped Harry’s face -not too gently- forcing him to look up. .

_Why even now, even without seeing those eyes, he felt his anger just drain away?_

Harry glared at him -not for mere effect- and he continued.  
**“I’ve given you my word, didn’t I?”** he asked, opening their link.

 **“** **That you did.”** the first tiny break of a smile had started lighting Harry’s eyes.

 **“** **Then you already know how I will, or won’t, act - don’t you?”** a breath, _-meaning don’t you trust me?-_ and he got a nod in return.

 **“** **I want nothing more but to protect us...”** he repeated an earlier statement, this time giving his words their true depth, **“…Everything else will came to us through very careful planning and preparation, not mad risks and bloodshed - at least of the non enemy kind...”**

Harry’s hand cupped his face in turn.  
**“I know.”** this time he really did.

Tom’s mouth was parched but he wasn’t going to just give in, not yet.  
**“What about your own word?”**

 **“** **You know you have it.”** there was such a deadly glint to Harry’s eyes, for all the sweet smile, that Tom didn’t need to hear the actual words.

He knew that if anyone attacked him, Auror or not - friend or not, and it looked like he was halfway in trouble Harry was going to shatter the attacker -attackers- into a million pieces - Actually he knew that this scenario held true even if he was the one attacking. But as that specific script was going to destroy Harry, if enacted, it was better to not even contemplate it...

He was still lost into Harry’s sweet, menacing, eyes when they were again rudely interrupted, from Granger’s dry cough this time...

Hermione looked already ready to pass out from embarrassment but the look he sent her added sheer terror to the mix -he could think of so many ways to slowly torture and kill her- especially considering that Harry’s expression towards her wasn’t, for once, full of kindness. However, before he would test on what he could get away with, she rushed her question:

“So, that spell, works like a taboo?” she asked earnestly and a little apprehensively.

Tom couldn’t completely hide a smirk.  
“Of a sort.” he allowed.

Hermione dared to narrow her eyes at him.  
“Please elaborate.” she asked sweetly.

Tom would have cursed her for her cheek, for all the superfluous deference, if Harry hadn’t chose just then to open his mouth.

“What exactly is a taboo, in spell terms? I don’t think I’ve read the term before.” his voice was light and merely inquiring but Tom didn’t had a single doubt that the earrings were going to get misplaced/destroyed, before the day was out, if Harry truly didn’t like the information.

“You wouldn’t have, it’s extremely rare.” he baited a bit. Tom himself had gathered what he knew from bits and pieces and recreated the rest from scratch.

Harry’s expression became truly piercing.  
“I’d still like to know.” he smiled.

 _Oh Tom had every intention of telling him..._  
But he had momentarily overlooked a particular ocdness from one of their group..

“It is a nasty piece of spellwork, even if it was originally light oriented...” Granger scrunched her nose with distaste. Then, realising that had interfered to one of their games, paled a bit.

Tom had replied to this breach with the barest tightening to the chain around her neck, making his feelings to her sheer audacity completely known -no matter how much he actually approved of the introduction- However Harry grabbed his hand, at the same moment, lacing their fingers and halting his move. No words were needed between them. This was done before he could do anything but scare her, yet Tom half-begrudgingly allowed it (and kept Harry’s hand for the hell of it) as he had already made his point. (He wanted Harry’s cooperation after all...)

Still the “later” he mouthed to her was a nice conclusion.

Hermione had turned -not so faintly- green with his last threat but squared her shoulders and faced him head on. Her thoughts were apparent: She didn’t care what he was going to do to her, strangle her, this very moment, or crucio her to madness, she was never going to hide a thing, that Harry wanted/needed to know, again. She may get persuaded, if it was a life or death situation, but never again for anything less.

The matter was a little redundant, of course, as she was well aware of his deal with Harry -like he would have missed the change to throw it at her face- but as she remained afraid of him -and fairly so, as he itched to give her a lesson- he could deal. More so -strangely enough- Tom found himself actually approving of her devotion and he nodded her to continue.

After taking a deep breath, to dispel the last of her fear, she did.

“The spell originates from around 1650 to 60, during the Light dominion that came alongside the civil war. The authorities not only made illegal certain dark spells but ensured instant conviction and incarceration of those daring to cast them... Later on though, they included just way too many spells, leading even their light population to rebel at this, and ensuring the abolition of the law and the destruction of any spell notes, during 1675.”

Tom’s smirk practically danced at his lips with her historical lecture, she had outright handed him a much harder punishment than merely scaring her for a bit... Harry’s deep-set frown and Zevi’s thoughtfulness indicated that they may get it before her though.

“Really, Hermione?” he drawled, “That’s the most recent example you can come up with, nothing closer to your time?” he delivered the deadly blow with immense satisfaction.

Hermione nearly fell from her chair to this; Zevi had to keep her steady.  
“It can’t be... Dumbledore...” she tried to say. Even after everything, she looked like her world was crashing around her.

Tom felt no pity though...

“Dumbledo...” he started his scatting reply, intending to tell her that the old man never actually cared for his supposed precious mudborns, except as lip service, as their lives weren’t improved one bit during the fifty years he had been in power, but he had to stop mid-word...

Harry was simply too quiet, his hand totally frozen into his own - he wasn’t merely trying to assimilate the horrifying information, as he had assumed with the silence to their bond, but had actually exploded inside with the dangerous _-deadly-_ kind of rage and was desperately trying to keep it contained to himself, to not endanger them. But it was already too much for him and Tom could feel the forming cracks.

A painful squeeze to his hand had no result, at snapping him out of this - too far gone... The same with activating his mark -or with a first degree of Legilimency- Getting a bit too desperate he returned on physical force, sharply turning his hand and dislocating a few bones on the way - still no result.

It wasn’t a time for dignity.

Tom gathered Harry in his arms, all but wagging him like a small child, and kept him contained both with physical strength and magic... He wasn’t going to let him get away from him, neither bodily nor into madness. Slowly but surely their link started opening again and he finally managed to take Harry’s rage entirely into himself... Firstly fully separating it from his partner then later letting it circle between their psyches, until it ran its course and they were safe... They rested their foreheads together for a moment.

_Really, he should have known much better with that subject!_

* * *

~*~

* * *

** Hermione’s pov **

Hermione was terrified, no scratch that, merely terrified was _-just-_ when Tom threatened her, this was outright panicking. Harry looked so very still, his eyes so glassy...

_Oh Harry!_

Exactly the same way he took on looking, quite a few times into this year, and a hundred times more terrifying now, cause she finally knew what it meant...and he wasn’t snapping out of it either...

“Har...” Zevi’s hand covered her mouth. She tried to touch him Zevi’s arms circled around her and kept her away.

“Shush,” was calmly whispered to her ear. “Look!” she trusted Zevi enough to stop struggling.

Hermione tried but, truthfully, didn’t see anything reassuring. Harry looked fully retreated into himself, like before -on any other such crisis- worse than those actually... _(and how she hated herself for not getting the meaning and severance of this before)_ and Tom was trying to bring him back using pain as the main focus.

It wasn’t going to work...

...When Harry was that far gone no such external stimulations affected him. They hadn’t worked when Walburga was pouring her poison around and they hadn’t worked when he learned that Tom had tried to strangle her...

(She had probably made Harry’s chest black and blue from her fists) It needed for Harry to be strong enough to break free _(...and what if someday he simply wasn’t that strong?_ That thought was Hermione’s worse nightmare.)

_But, wait a moment!_

Tom had taken him in his arms (and it was far less fluffy in reality than what it will sound like, if she had to describe it, but still terrifyingly intense...) and that seemed to have some effect! Harry was still lost into himself but the same thing that was affecting him was now, apparently, affecting Tom as well. Both seemed to be under the same current.

There was nothing sweet, or even slightly romantic, to this but Hermione still felt very much like she was intruding and turned away, looking at Zevi instead - who did the same. However, now that she wasn’t on total panic, for Harry, not even Zev’s angular, expressive, face and warm brown eyes, so close to hers, were able to distract her from the enraged questions that plagued her thoughts.

“Why?” she questioned brokenly. Zevi had no answer to give her though, just sadly shook his head and squeezed her hand.

_Why would he do such a thing? There was no meaning and pattern to it..._

She may hate his guts, right now, and may have wanted him dead, ever since he attacked Harry... (..Actually she couldn’t even see his face without wishing to scratch his eyes out..) but she had logically understood Dumbledore’s reasoning for it.

He couldn’t differentiate between Voldemort and Tom and since Harry had got in the way (she could bet on that) and was a horcrux to boot, then there was no other way or solution to the old coot but to eliminate them both...

_But this! It really didn’t make a lick of sense..._

What over Green Earth could Dumbledore gain by allowing Voldemort to kill his supporters _(..or even possible ones..)_ and not say a single word in their defence? Not a bit.

_Totally insane!_

She would consider that Tom was lying to her, or over-inflating things, out of pride or design, but it didn’t make any sense either. While he had that tendency -to boast, or gloat, for things- it was never without some true basis, or cause - never mind on something like that, so infuriating and _hurtful_ to Harry (herself too but she doubted that Tom cared for her) even without having foreseen all consequences to his lover. If that was the case a bloody fight with Harry was the least he had to expect.

_So no way it was even partially untrue... But then again how, or why?_

A few endless moments under those poisonous thoughts and having her ears, if not eyes, trained to her best friend (and it truly seemed to last a whole eternity, like enduring an earthquake) the universe took pity of her and Harry let out a soft huff and seemed to return in himself.

He held up his injured hand (dislocated and already discoloured) and glared half heatedly at Tom.  
“Thanks, Tom, a lot.” his voice was dry as sand with sarcasm, but held an equal degree of truth and gratitude.

Tom outright laughed to this (..definitely sadistically but surprisingly warmly and totally honest too..)  
“You’re welcome.” then fixed his hand with a smirk.

 _Harry was alright! They were both alright!_ Hermione let out a soft sigh of relief and leaned a bit against Zevi, who smiled, just as relieved, to her.

A moment later, Tom and Harry were totally serious.  
“You had better explain, Tom. Now. Everything.” Harry’s voice held absolutely no compromise.

She held her breath.

* * *

~*~

* * *

  **Harry’s pov**

Harry was getting crazy, there wasn’t another explanation! Tom had halted him from getting lost in madness but, even with his immediate rage controllable, he was just sliding into a slower, more torturous, one. Everything was falling on him like domino pieces.

 _‘Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.’_ Dumbledore’s words were echoing loudly in his head like if he had firstly heard them yesterday not, nearly, eight years ago...

Those words had profoundly affected his psyche and even now, after all those years - after coming to hate Dumbledore, they still influenced the way he thought and acted... _But what if the old man had being wrong then, to the danger, and he had been misinforming, or -worse yet- what if he had been deceiving?_

His head was spinning with questions and realizations (that created even more suffocating questions in turn) and he longed to take his hurting head in his hands, at the hopelessly vain hope that it will ease the pain and the crazy spinning. He couldn’t afford to show such weakness though...

He would gain nothing.

So he just fixed Tom with his more relentless stare, deciding to not move an inch until he got the answers. Not merely some answers though, he wasn’t going to get appeased with some crumbs, even if they were of a sizeable kind. Harry wasn’t going to let go until he learned everything.

Tom had a strange, pensive, expression. The closer he got to an apology _(..and that acknowledged only to their link..)_ -though thankfully nothing even close to pity- and seemed to fully understand how close he was to the edge, cause he started taking:

“I won’t say I was so completely surprised to find my _then_ chosen name,” he very carefully enunciated the adverb, slyly attempting to make him feel better, “used as the bogeyman to Wizarding World’s sheep, nor I believed it was so widely spread due to general fear alone. It was only logical to be used like that -or as a way to hit specific targets- instead of blindly killing the population, like Gramps did.” a smirk, one of not entirely false camaraderie... to which Harry nearly responded with one of his, but held on at the last moment and Tom continued.

“..And, yes, I had already encountered mentions of ‘taboo’ in my studies about the trace, so it was more that just a possibility. But, as I hadn’t mastered that magic _-at the time-_ it was only a half accurate guess -not fact- and so, no matter how much I wanted you to see the old man’s faults, I wasn’t going to risk getting you distrust me, even more, based on conjecture.”

Harry felt far than charitable, or trusting, at the moment, but had to admit Tom’s words sounded sensible and even more -real- to him. Still it was far from the full _detailed_ explanation he had asked for and way too important a matter to leave it at that... he gifted him with a bitter smile.

“...I’ve told you before, Tom, it’s not that I wasn’t seeing it, just that the _then_ alternative was an even worse one.” he smirked, throwing it right back at his partner.

“But are you absolutely sure that he did master it and not just copied some of the effects to frighten people?” a pointed look... “When did _you_ actually mastered it anyway?”

He smiled breezily, knowing he was pushing it, but Tom’s reaction was going to tell him as much as the answers... his partner narrowed his eyes and sent him a hard warning glance, but smirked way arrogantly, all the same, answering him, nonetheless.

“What do you think, love, of course he did. I had had set myself to master it, long before meeting you and even longer still from the diverting point. The question is not _if_ he managed but _when_... As for me, thanks to your time’s totally infective Ministry, I was able to connect the specific dots right before our return - way faster than Gramps, I believe.” his smirk widened with satisfaction.

Then the expression slipped.

“...And no, Dumbledore definitely must have known after the first war, when he was selling you all those sanctimonious lines. With an Unspeakable caught and interrogated with veritaserum, he should have been a total delusional idiot not to, so drop the thought of absolving him, hero.”

_…And no politician, no matter how well intended, would have ever admitted such a position weakening mistake, especially one with such a heavy human toll…_

_A weapon! The order had been guarding a weapon, too…_

Hermione gasped with that (and probably the exact same realisations) but Harry -while getting more and more nauseous from betrayal with such confirmation- hadn’t even thought to go there, he was much more interested at Tom, and not just as a secondary concern. He narrowed his eyes right back.

“But then _why_?” he barely managed to keep a steady voice, “Why not telling me right after we’d returned, if you knew? It’s not like we knew the risk to me right then... I can, maybe, understand your first reasoning, but not this... What could you gain by hiding such a thing?” he pressured even more...

There was a strange look to Tom’s eyes for a moment, vulnerable, but Harry wasn’t naive enough to think, even for a instant, that he did it (or at best case partially) to spare his feelings. That and a very weird feeling -something like regret- he could sense, made him settle at the worse. He got up.

“You never fully trusted me, did you? The old man tried to kill you and you were still considering that I needed frigging incentives to fully take your side. **He nearly killed you, for fuck’s sake!”** the last part was a harsh whisper, even in parseltongue.

_...And yes he knew that a normal person would had cared much more that he, himself, was actually killed, but that was the way he felt, anyway..._

Tom was white as sheet, from anger, or some other emotion (for once he was way too numb and couldn’t really tell) he got up, too.  
**“Sit the hell down.”** it was a menacing whisper and he tried to tug him back down.

Harry was shocked by the expletive but still much too numb to do anything but resist going down and Tom let out a weary sigh and started explain standing as they were.

 **“** **Firstly -for all I knew- you were still vulnerable when we’d firstly returned to the past. You had died and returned for Salazar’s sake! Secondly, it never -ever- crossed my mind that you could betray me to him. It was just a precaution to trip the scales, in case you actually hesitated, the moment he was to die.”** Harry sent him a frosty look and Tom continued,

“You consider me as a different person to Gramps, how was I to be completely certain that you wouldn’t afford him the same courtesy? The current version is just a petty manipulator and -even now- only an irritating annoyance...”

The numbness started to recede, allowing his emotions to surface -with anger and frustration first on the line, together with hurt and a dose of disappointment- but, as he could actually get Tom’s points, (as well the emotions underneath) the first one was nearly dissolved, with the rest moved aside, and just the second one allowed to express itself.

_They could afford to deal with this after the current problem._

**“** **What part of nearly killing you - you don’t get?”** he grumbled with deep annoyance but it sounded sort of fond, even to his ears, and Tom’s look was heavy - of the very good kind.

“Yeah, totally harmless...” he continued grumbling - for all ears, this time, “...Like I would have allowed him to run me -again- roughshod or let him harm anyone... Really.” his partner waved him off (supposedly) and send him a sly grin, but his eyes were serious all the same.

He had understood.

Harry sent a reassuring look towards Mione and Zevi, who had frozen, pretending to be elsewhere, while they fought, to indicate that said fight was over -for now- and consented to sit. He wasn’t over with Tom though.

“All those were great explanations, yeah, but none of them included the actual research.” he crossed his arms. Tom sent him a look underneath his nose, from his high place, (not completely pretend, that one) then sat.

“Really, my Harry, you need more? I’ve already given you the key-word, what more could you requires? You may need Remedial studies if it wasn’t enough, and I’m sure that Hermione already gets it.” his look left no room for misunderstandings...

Hermione blushed scarlet but didn’t dare to speak this time.

Harry couldn’t help but snort with this _-only Tom would ever consider it as self explanatory-_ then he actually got it and was so shocked that it took him a whole moment to voice it.

“The Trace?” he asked totally incredulous, “You want us to invade the Department of Mysteries?”

Tom buffed his nails, pretending he didn’t see his unbelieving stare.  
“Not exactly, just use its properties on a very limited, very exclusive, base.” an annoyed look.

“Really, you know my work.” he chastised, sounding pretty peevish.

Harry was almost faint with relief, the last thing they needed were more of that kind insane risks. Though, now that he got it, he felt kinda idiot...  
“Blood. **It’s like the mark, but without permission you won’t be able to use active magic.”**

_Really, it was no brainer, now that he thought about it..._

_But if Tom got the idea for the mark by the trace how old did he start on that one? Genius or not he doubted it came to him overnight, or at a few months..._

“Close.” Tom’s smile was bright like the sun…“That’s my Harry! I knew that you will get it at the end.” ...and an honest one - though slightly superior, “Came now, darling, stop overeating, we have sneaked at the Ministry more than once...”

Harry shook his head.

“Oh please, none of those can be actually considered sneaking there...The first one was during Voldemort’s attack and the second only at the offices, none of them are solid insurance that it will work at a third time.” his voice sounded just a tiny bit aggravated, he couldn’t help it.

“Harry,” Tom’s voice was very soft, and kind of nonchalant, quite unsurprisingly he was smirking. “Those indeed cannot make a conclusive agreement but my own foray there, to test my mastery, definitely does.”

Harry closed his mouth with an audible click, this was far more of a right turn than he expected...  
“Wait, what? When did you get there, why?” the questions burst forth without his control.

“What did you think I did, my Harry?” Tom’s smirk wasn’t smug exactly, more like roguish, and kind of lopsided. _(It was deeply annoying but honestly sweet too...)_

Harry was more than just a tad irritated to find himself affected...  
...affected enough, that’s it, to miss the meaning to this for a very long moment... though yeah, that smile was definitely distracting...

“You said it was obliviation via radio waves?” he managed to point out. Tom’s smile became even more wicked, if it was possible...

“And how else would I have done that, sweetheart? There are no satellite dishes, at this time, to even attempt it -nor would it have been advisable- same with the wireless, on a slightly smaller scale.”

Harry’s head was spinning, he could, shorta, make out Tom’s voice but the actual explanation had started sounding Chinese. He could barely feel the table’s smooth wood under his hands too.

“Why?” he asked, like for a lifeline.

Tom’s eyes flashed a very rude, very catty, reply, one probably only held back to preserve his dignity. He offered instead a cruel smile.

“Why do you think, golden boy?” he asked him right back. “It was necessary, you were an utter mess, just looking out a window and barely offering a single word in reply, completely useless to me at that state.” voice dispassionate, stating facts.

Strangely so, it made Harry feel more than slightly better - No, make that actually euphoric... He had long ago learned evaluating Tom by his private actions first and his words as very second and if the current words surpassed plain shitty his actions shouted the exact opposite. However this wasn’t the right moment to go all melted on the inside. He straightened his body with dignity.

“I would have adjusted given time.” he tried to believe it. Tom all but rolled his eyes at him.

“Really, darling? Certainly it didn’t look that way. If your furious awakening back to the past was bad the full realization that you were assuredly dead to all your casual acquaintances and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it, except maybe end up a lab rat to the Unspeakables, was ten times that...” his tone was even more measured than before.

Harry had to tightly close his eyes at this, Tom was right, that was a period in his life he could hardly stand remembering. It had been a huge blow after blow to him then, losing his entire world and then immediately losing that one as well... _At least that was how he had felt like..._

“...But, to be fair to you, if there was a chance in succeeding, we didn’t have the time to wait.” Harry’s eyes snapped open.

“And to risk everything, your very neck, in a totally unknown part of the Ministry, with unknown defences? Not even Brax’s father’s knowledge would have helped you then, you should have taken me with you.-”

Tom’s eyes were laughing at him.

“Yeah right, to have the declared dead came along, it would have helped me so much in case of discovery. Who would have saved me then?” only half humour,

“...I didn’t stayed all that long, anyway, just a couple minutes to modify your status from **DOA** to **MIA** ,” a smirk, “and for your information, darling, I had backup.” dryly.

Harry rolled his eyes, but it was only a token move. There was no doubt he would have helped, funk or not, but the mention of backup had him sitting up even straighter.

“Really, who?” his voice didn’t held total disbelief but it was close.

Tom’s look was disdainful.  
“What are you taking me up, a Gryffindor?” _(or Gramps, as his partner enjoyed to call Voldemort - but none of them would acknowledge that one)_

“As for whom...”

 _“_ Who do you think?” Hermione, with a laughing voice, dared once more to interfere and didn’t seem to mind, all that much, that he had -again- totally forgotten about her presence, or Zev’s, to his total shame.

Even Tom didn’t seem to mind her interference, this time.  
“Her acting talent was indeed considerable!” he acknowledged.

Harry looked from one to the other, surprised to hear Tom so heavily praising another person...  
“What did you do?”

Hermione’s victorious smile was huge and full of teeth.

“After my OWLS testing at the Ministry I reverted back in a first year’s mentality and pestered everyone with my questions. It was supposedly my first official début in Wizarding society...”

Harry nearly groaned, he could _-oh so very easily-_ imagine that. Tom all but openly snickered, beside him, in remembrance; Zevi in turn looked almost totally blissful in comparison. Hermione sent them all a flinty look.

“She was horrible, but the perfect decoy.” Tom took again the tale with relish, “Her rapid questions could be heard at the entire DoM and she didn’t let a single person get away from her and all but forced them give her a tour in all public departments and some not,” a breath...

“I could have probably managed even without disillusioning.” his voice was more than slightly sarcastic but held true admiration.

Hermione was blushing with total embarrassment but still held her proud smile and her head high.

“I would have never manage that if I didn’t have Lord Elijah beside me, supporting me...” a gentle smile, “That, or if my attained marks hadn’t nearly busted Tom’s record, in all but defence, that’s it.” her smile had turned decidedly devilish, going for the jugular in her revenge.

The air froze for a moment and Harry feared that Tom would react violently at such a challenge. Thankfully he was wrong, his partner was, if anything, a total master in self discipline.

“You could have never, under any circumstances, beaten my scores.” his voice sounded very pleasant, deceptively so, but not of the strike preparing kind, no, something else.

Hermione didn’t wilt.  
“Are you sure? You never saw my original OWL scores.” she pointed out sweetly.

Tom’s eyes still flashed daggers but once again he didn’t take any violent action; it seemed this was a point of honour for him.  
“And you never saw my second ones.” practically mild.

Another exchange of deadly glares, with Hermione once again not backing down and then there was a nearly mutual conclusion:  
“NEWTS?”

“NEWTS!” decisively. It was the closing a deal. Harry was mostly amused and a bit grateful for the light note.

...But just like that he was absolutely certain for three things: Firstly: that this wasn’t the first time Tom and Hermione had that particular crosstalk. Secondly: that this specific repeat has been done only for him, to make him feel better and...Third: that no matter what Tom may have told him -or to himself- his very first notion to date -marry- Hermione must stem from that time. He saw the same realization form at Zev’s face.

Then Tom caught his eye, raising an eyebrow and smirking, delighted by his nearly open jealously and Harry felt silly, albeit of the reassured kind. There had been intellectual rivalry yes -and still was- but any fancy Tom may have taken, due to this, was very small potatoes compared to what he felt for him. There was no actual reason to worry, or feel threatened.

However Tom tended to be a greedy thing so maybe it wouldn’t go amiss to keep an eye on him... He sent him another sharp glance...

Tom seemed to be silently preening under that gaze but a moment later he was back to serious and all business like.  
“So, Harry,” he asked almost formally, “now that you know, do I have your consent to add the taboo ward on the earrings.”

Harry forced himself to return at a business mindset as well, evaluating everything he had learned about the spell so far...  
“I’m almost sold but I would prefer a few clarifications.”

Tom examined his face, saw that this was serious and not a delay play, and so consented.  
“Ask then.”

* * *

~*~

* * *

** Tom’s pov **

Tom watched with a hidden smile and mute anticipation as Harry gathered the right words for his question. This was promising to be interesting as his partner, unlike Hermione, was definitely not going to just play with theories. Whatever it was there was going to have a practical application, that much for certain…

He was certainly not disappointed. Harry eyed him seriously and headed for the metaphorical jugular.

“You said it was not the same as blood, will you explain it? **What are the differences between the cases, all three of them, their constraints and advantages?”** his look and his _tightly_ pressed lips made clear that this time he wasn’t going to settle on half things.

A wave of pride hit Tom once again, hard. Harry was never ever going to have much patience with theory but the fact that he learned and became proficient enough (due their association) and could not only debate with him, on nearly equal depth, but actually knew the exact parameters he had to ask for to not leave room for any diversion and misunderstandings. It was one of the deeper pleasures in his life...

Pleasure and pride aside, it was immediately followed by irritation. _How dare Harry demand it from him like that?_ _Those were nearly all his accumulated secrets, years of efforts..._ And even if -for some odd reason- he actually wanted to share them with him Tom didn’t do reports, period.

He offered a sweetly misleading smile.  
“There are not all that different truly, **\- and who told you there were only three cases?** ” he evaded the question adding and a little test for flavour.

Harry was startled for a moment then he narrowed his eyes and considered.  
**“Even if there are, I doubt there are anything more than mere subcategories on the main three.”**

Tom nodded sharply that he had gotten it right then Harry’s wary expression softened a bit.  
“Small differences or not I would still really like to know.” he insisted, but the tone was far more questioning than demanding this time.

_Much better!_

“The main, most notable, differences between using blood, versus the trace, are fine control and safety.” he started, even allowing their audience to hear. “It is, of course, possible to remotely cast active magic on someone, if you posses even a few drops of his/her blood, or even an object linked to it -and that stands even for the trace, if you are subtle and know enough to do it on an individual basis- but it has nearly the same limitations as casting in person -minus the obvious- and even more traceable, if one makes the effort, like an additional 50%…”

Harry sucked a hard breath and Tom send him a warning glance, intercepting him before speaking.

 **“** **Don’t worry, darling, it’s different with the trace. At such minuscule amounts it was/is impossible to get traced into such infinity...”** then he smiled charmingly, to distract their spectators, it was no business of theirs, and concluded the lecture.

“…But under any and all circumstances passive magic remains undetectable and that it’s main positive quality that equalises and surpass all her limitations.”

Hermione seemed satisfied -like she had any final say to this- but Harry still felt slightly agitated. Tom hid a wary sigh; _there was no way he could get away…_

**“What else?”**

Harry’s face was completely impassive and his voice casual but, even if he didn’t have a mental link to tell him otherwise, he would have still known it was a façade by the question.

 **“** **What if the active magic wasn’t such a tiny, dismissible, amount, or was it more widely spread?”** _Harry didn’t hold his punches!_

Tom sighed once more, nearly perceptibly, but answered.

 _He wasn’t going to be left alone to this -ever- otherwise. He couldn’t even downplay it, this information wasn’t all that scarce, if one looked, and if Harry found out alone -and he would-_ (Hermione already knew) _then he wasn’t going to leave him a single moment of privacy for the next century -going to eternity- if it was up to him…_

**“...If it was a larger amount I would have been probably immediately caught and interrogated by the Unspeakables, right before snipped to Azkaban, without trial. It is considered worse than capital offence.”**

Harry was white as sheet but certainly appreciated the truth and knew when to keep his reactions on the inside.  
**“And more widely spread?”**

Tom smiled a cold smile. _\- That was going to end this subject._

**“Then the consequences would have been more direct. If Gramps, for example, had tried to execute you using the trace then it is very debatable if he would have survived it with any cognitive thought. Or -if he was mad enough to attempt it- had tried to put the whole wizarding world under imperious, then he would have most assuredly ended with his brains literally leaking to the floor…”**

Both of them shuddered with instinctive horror and revulsion at such a picture but Tom was nonetheless pleased that Harry loved him enough that he couldn’t wish such a fate even at Gramps. However, on the other hand, he wasn’t nearly that happy when Harry restarted the questions a bare few moments after that.

_His partner was tenacious like this!_

**“** **Will you tell me about the mark too?”** and when Tom looked at him frozenly added: **“What’s its limit?”**

Just like that Tom’s very last shreds of patience were fried... _Enough! That was enough!_ Harry was getting it way too far here.

His first instinct went towards hitting him (..preferable..) or cursing him, or their witnesses - to really hurt him, -or throwing them out to really give him a lesson- but they didn’t have time for this. Harry in turn seemed prepared mostly for the third option -shielding Hermione and Zevi- and waiting him patiently to make his move. He looked once again far from actually demanding.

The last part eased his nerves a bit, enough to be able to think.

He didn’t like this _-as in at all-_ but Harry already knew enough that he could deduct everything given enough time and his brains. That was unavoidable; now he had started thinking about it... Trust wasn’t an issue. The only issue now was how it was going to happen and what kind of control he was going to have at this…

Tom exhaled softly. He could deal.

That and he much preferred it when Harry came to him for information instead of only searching by himself and not saying a single word or -|-worse yet-|- going straight to Granger. _(He really hated that)_ Talking was a better solution, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to happen at his terms, or enjoy it…

He sent his partner his most dangerous and sweet smile.  
**“Who told you, my love, that there is a limit?”**

He slightly influenced Harry’s nerve ends, at his back, to create a cold feeling, freezing his muscles right in place and keeping him immobile right there... That was making his meaning clear, that there wasn’t much he couldn’t do at Harry, if he wished to. But Harry’s reaction surprised him once more.

There wasn’t fear in his eyes (expectable) but neither anger, distress, nor mild alarm... Those eyes were alight with curiosity and a barely banked kind of heat, like the thought of finding himself -literally- helpless in his arms, all without any physical restrain, actually excited him, excited him a lot...

Tom himself wasn’t all that better, with that picture in his mind. but it definitely wasn’t the time for that. He cleared his throat.

 **“** **But that was the last of the free samples, today. You know more than enough anyway, even if you haven’t joined the pieces yet. Work it on your mind, gather all your questions and knowledge and we’ll talk about this when we’ll be a bit freer.”** it was a promise.

Harry blushed a tiny bit but nodded his full agreement.

 **“** **Now is there anything else or do I -finally- have that consent?”** his voice was more frozen than ice.

Harry’s blush intensified some.  
**“Actually I have one more question.”** it was a request.

Tom, this time, raised heavenwards his eyes but nodded him once more to carry on. _\- Why yes, he had him spoiled rotten..._

 **“** **When you first stated working on the trace?”** Harry’s voice was very soft.

 **“** **Summer after my first year.”** his own voice was equally soft and the information succinct.

Harry sucked once more his breath, looking ready to strangle someone, but didn’t say a single word, he had understood. His eyes questioned him once more though and Tom’s replied.

_‘Yes, they were going to talk about this at a later day, much later…’_

* * *

~*~

* * *

_{There was a very good reason he was equal to Harry at hand to hand combat, he had taken a very unpleasant surprise - right after his final exams, as first year, with Dumbledore inviting him, all too casually, for tea and informing him -since he felt it was his duty after introducing him at wizarding world- that, unlike with wizarding houses, muggleborns (when he knew perfectly well he was a half blood) were far more intensely monitored to avoid risking the ‘Statute of Secrecy’ and -why yes- even accidental ‘wandless’ magic actually counted, was traceable and - he really would have hated it if he ended up expelled…_

_Tom had, of course, suspected it was an utter bull, but all the same, it wasn’t over something he would truly risk and had prepared himself to handle it. Unfortunately all those little ruffians had nine whole months, away from his presence, and had started to forget his lessons. He had been forced to teach them all over again using his fists, kicks, and whatever other innovation he could find but not even the barest scrap of magic…_

_It had been a rough, hellish, painful, summer but he had managed to not only survive it but come out on top too. He still wasn’t too keen to share the memories with Harry though…}_

* * *

~*~

* * *

“I take it that I have your consent about the spell.” this time it wasn’t a question.

Harry looked him right on the eye.  
“Yes, you do.”

Hermione and Zevi let out small sighs of relief and after a moment she was done etching the needed runes on the first earring. He found such dismissing action vastly insulting, but she was also not wasting time (his and hers) so he could let her be, for now.

“You have mine as well.” she smiled, _(like her opinion was of equal weight)_ “Give me a few moments and I will be done with the other one as well.” she returned on her work...

“Do you want to keep the first as the dominant one or should I make them equal for each of you?”

Tom exchanged a look with Harry; they were of the same mind to this.

Still his partner looked intensely uncomfortable as he was addressing her.  
“I will leave that decision entirely to your own hands, Herm, as you will be the one wearing them both and maintaining our communications.”

To that Tom didn’t quite agree though.

“Actually you had better work on adjusting a secondary dominant pair too, I would prefer it if I’d keep a level of control in the battle and so will Harry, when he stops feels guilty that’s it.” he smirked.

Harry sent him a nasty look while Hermione looked stricken.  
“But that means I should stay back, instead of helping you...” she sounded very hurt; if Tom actually cared his heart would have been bleeding for her.

Speaking for bleeding hearts…

“But you will help us, Mione, far better than anyone else really, you know it... Far better than in the actual bloodshed.” Harry had started out earnestly but his last comment was pointed and full of steel, he wasn’t going to accept a refusal.

Hermione had started to cave but very paradoxically the last part made her mulish once again.  
“I’m not worthless in battle; I have worked too hard for it, I have even killed.”

Harry’s smile was pained.

“Yes, you have.” it was admission, “and I hate myself everyday for it.” it was case closed, Harry wasn’t going to accept another word... Tom both admired his style and was bothered by the sentimentality.

Hermione saw it and slumped in defeat. Curiously -or not so curiously- she sought comfort at Zevi. Prince was slightly (to very) uncomfortable with bringing him up front to this, but didn’t deny her.

“I will never say that you are not fully capable to accomplice anything you want, however I must admit that I’m truly glad that you will remain safe. I have absolutely no idea how Alphard’s copping with this.”

At the foul mood, Hermione was, it hit her like a cattle prod.  
“ZEVEDEUS!”

But she didn’t manage to continue her rand. Tom cut her -half strangling her- at the first word. He had more than enough from this insanity. Harry, for once, let it pass.

“Frankly, I wouldn’t personally care what you do - who knows you may have even survived it. But you have your orders and I expect you adhering to them; - or you thought I’ve analysed the spells even to you just to analyse them?” he rhetorically asked her with dangerous humour.

“Am I understood?” he concluded mercilessly.

Hermione looked pale and finally defeated.  
“Yes, my Lord.”

Harry sent him a sour look and smiled at her.  
“You will do great Herm.”

Hermione replied with a tremulous smile but didn’t look any better.

_Well…_

“I seem to recall you were preparing Lady Dorea for that position, if you find that you can’t respond with the required efficiency you can have her as your assistant.” it had the expected results.

Harry looked just as mad though.  
**“That was uncalled for.”**

Tom smirked.  
**“Really, darling, have you looked at her?”**

_Hate sometimes worked better than encouragement, it was just a tool, if one knew how to use it, that’s it._

Hermione had returned to her etching with a deadly efficiency and Tom didn’t care one bit if she wished to shove her chisel right at his throat, or eye. She wasn’t actually going to attack, and she was back at her competent self, maybe having learned her lesson.

 **“** **Oh,”** Harry didn’t seem to like it but he had understood and Tom’s smirk stretched widely before falling…

 **“** **You interfered in my disciplining.”** …there was a matter he couldn’t simply leave alone.

Harry’s expression was immovable.

 **“** **You interfered -first- in mine... Had you had simply left her alone she would have complained a bit more, harped at Zevi - for being a chauvinistic pig, as the rest of us. Yes, now I count too,”** a joking roll of his eyes, **“and that would have been all.”**

True (whatever way he may spin it, that was the final result) It was a stalemate.

But before they would decide how to handle said impasse there was a soft pop and a house elf apparated into the room. Like all the Potter house elves she didn’t make a production of submissiveness, offering simply a light bow.

“What is it, Kitty?” _and it figures that Harry would have bothered to learn all their names…_

“So sorry for interrupt yous, master Harry, but the lord Auror and his niece, Miss Bonesy, have come and requested for you and your mister Tom, in the blue drawing room.”

“Alright, Kitty, thank you, we’ll get there.” he didn’t sound ecstatic.

Tom, in turn, felt even less so. Bones and his damn niece were the very last people he wanted to privately see right now... 9:45. _Hopefully it wasn’t going to last long._

Harry got up then he remembered something and stopped in his tracks.

“Zevi, since you will write at your father shortly, will you please thank him on my behalf? I intend to do it soon, as well, but my earlier opportunity will be very late tonight and I don’t want to risk it slipping my mind.”

Zevi looked very pleased with this.  
“Consider it done, Harry.”

 _Typical!_  
“Let’s go hero.”

Harry rolled his eyes at him, waved at their two companions, and had the temerity of fast preceding him.

Tom followed him slowly, muttering threats of a good trashing, but that only made Harry to flash him a teasing smile and slow down until they were walking side by side. Few steps further down he made a half statement.

 **“** **So you planned Mione as our support too, that’s why you never threw her, with Zevi, out…”** it was more of a question.

Tom pretended the shocked one.

 **“** **Why my Harry, you wanted them out, you could have done it by yourself, I’m not always going to play it rude so that you will come out as virtuous.”** actually, now that he was thinking it, it would have been very intriguing to have Harry throwing out their followers whenever he felt like it.

Here there was a faint blush.  
**“Tom! I would have never done such a thing!”** Harry sounded deeply scandalized, admonishing and defensive - all at once. Perfect!

Tom couldn’t help a smirk.  
**“Hence my point, darling.”**

He got an exasperate glare, but not another word, which led Tom at settling to be merciful. He knew what Harry was really after and decided to give it to him, in his own way.

 **“** **Yes, that was one reason, the other was that she and Prince were making perfect chaperones.”** he put it dryly, hiding his wicked -wicked- smile.

Harry momentarily stopped in his tracks; his face was so vividly red that at another time he would have checked out him for a stroke.  
**“You thought we needed a chaperone?”** he sounded beyond incredulous.

Tom waved him off.

 **“** **Not on the traditional sense, obviously,”** _alright, and a little of it too,_ **“but how many times did you restrained yourself from punching me and you know I did the same. It worked and could work again.”**

Harry to his credit thought about it, but he remained sceptical.  
**“I don’t think it’s a good idea, it’s not like you ever hesitated to lash at anyone when he got in the way.”**

 _Watkins for one._ Tom really hated that look.

**“We both know it’s totally different circumstances, right now, and I’m sure that you will be in your best behaviour.”**

Harry’s look would have striped paint, but Tom refused to move even just a single eyelash. _He had been in his very best behaviour as well and if Harry couldn’t see that then he simply didn’t deserved a repeated effort._

But, after a moment, his partner let out a long sigh.  
**“I prefer dealing with things on our own.”**

That Tom could accept.  
**“So and I, but if it’s a matter of not enough time it’s a good strategy.”**

Harry offered him a wry laugh.  
**“I doubt there is going to be another case such as this, but if it happens we’ll see. Trial basis only.”**

A small nod and they continued on. But, as they were heading closer to their destination, Tom asked a very nonchalant question.

 **“** **I take it that you will be alright.”** it sounded nearly fluffy and Tom really wanted to destroy something for making it, but he could not hold it back, even if he wanted. Harry was still all but vibrating with tension and the last crisis had been alarming to say the least.

Harry offered him a wry smile.

 **“** **I will be, in time. Can’t say I’m any pleased in learning that Dumbledore was more of an arsehole than I believed, or that you waited all that long in telling me I wasn’t the only responsible for Mr Weasley’s death…”** the last part was wintering…

 **“** **But I’ll deal. The full training session, in a bit or so, will help a lot.”** he allowed a warmer, if toothy, smile.

Tom returned it; it was the last thing to have a problem with. _Actually he had his own score of bones to pick with Harry..._

Then his partner added something else.  
**“Your apology though, helped even more.”**

Tom’s desire to hit something returned with a vengeance but he masked it behind his most haughty look.  
**“I don’t recall giving you one.”**

Harry didn’t reply but a few steps further his hand found its way inside his. Tom threw him a nasty look but kept it. However nearly at their destination’s door his partner had one more thing to say.

**“But no more secrets between us.”**

Tom nearly laughed out loud with this. _Harry dared to talk about secrets!_ His lover had the grace to blush.

**“Alright, it stands only for that kind of secrets.”**

Tom allowed himself to smile.  
“Acceptable.”

 _…_ And that was how they were presented to their estimable guests, with barely restrained merry smiles - and never ceasing holding hands. Tom quite enjoyed the look to their faces.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was superposed to be just a filler chapter before more exciting things but the 'taboo' matter wasn't leaving me any peace. This is my best explanation.
> 
> PS Edited at 10/22/2015  
> Please review to inspire me for more...


	19. Tom and Harry vs Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Negotiations -Political and Not- Part A

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive! I'm not going to give an excuse other than real life (else I should fill a couple pages) The only other notable thing I will leave is the information that this is only Part A and Part B will follow in a week or so (its already 20+ pages it was just too big to handle even for me) so wait for it:)
> 
> This chapter is devoted to my best friend, [AthdaraSeleya](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AthdaraSeleya/pseuds/AthdaraSeleya), who had her birthday few days ago. Without her, neither this chapter nor the incoming one would have a chance to get here:)
> 
> Thank you my friend:)
> 
> PS This chapter corresponds with Amelia's Portraits as at [House Bones Ledger -TFCNW Universe-](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5236706?view_full_work=true)  
> Portaits [One](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5236706/chapters/12078404) and [Two](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5236706/chapters/12078416)

**Chapter 19: More Negotiations -Political and Not- Part A  
** **_( or Tom and Harry vs Bones)_ **

**Tom's pov (continuation)**

Auror Bones and Amelia were waiting for them, seated at blue, high-backed, velvet, armchairs - the ones directly set under the array of the high windows. They were also very formally attired. The Chief decked out in full Auror regalia (Wizengamot's pin as well) and a golden monocle and Amelia in burnt-orange, conservatively cut - but very flattering - robes and her auburn hair tightly bound. _They had certainly used the time they had while waiting for them to come here..._

 _-Even her hair,_ Tom noted _, looked more copper than auburn from all that light and he irrationally wondered if she had posed so intentionally, just to get Harry's attention, or even lightened them to that intend-_

Harry, catching the tail of that thought, held back a startled snort and lightly bumped him but grew instantly serious -and a bit irritated- with the full view of the scene they were presented at.

Tom didn't have the slightest doubt about what kind of effect their estimable guests were aiming for -and to what result- but, while truly appreciating the artistic staging, he remained vastly unimpressed... - _He played -was- lead on the intimidating game, not the other way around._

 _Still,_ it was actually a pretty picture, intended as both imposing and benign (following the more light tradition) as they instantly eased at said posture by politely rising with their entry. However even that - _so proper-_ pose faltered some, their moves becoming discomfited and awkward, as they got a closer look.

 _Really,_ Harry and he had made a very proper and perfectly sedate entrance -for the most part- into the room, but that one _slight_ impropriety seemed to have lingering and quite intriguing effects...

_It was also so very liberating to even temporarily discard some of his masks..._

Tom barely contained a satisfied smirk, while surveying uncle and niece try and then fail to control their reactions _-first and foremost dismay-_ at their joined hands.

There was a near negligible moment of pure shock, followed by resignation but not actual surprise and something akin to disappointment - yet not quite that, to the uncle -Strangely enough not full out disapproval either- and maybe jealousy -but again not quite- Then the Chief Auror became completely unreadable and stone-like, but it was too late, he had seen quite enough...

The niece, in turn, was far easier to read and slightly more transparent than her uncle. She was currently so upset that her full impressive aura had flared out for a moment filling the room and making Harry tense with equal surprise and understanding.

Amelia didn't even noticed, her eyes -widened between incredulity and horror- were fixed on their joined hands, very like as she had come across Sava _(maybe he needed to arrange a meeting between the two)_ and Tom was fleetingly puzzled by the extend to her reaction...

_Hadn't she watched them hauling each other, by hand, a million times already, never batting an eye to it? (..not even when she was Harry's girlfriend..)_

Then comprehension set and the corners of his lips twitched imperceptibly: It wasn't the action by itself so much, or even the implied/outright stated intimacy, but the full significance to it: There was absolutely nothing ambiguous -or controversial- to this, just finality.

...and it was that exact finality that was driving her now insane... She may had the sharp eyes to see, but that didn't mean that dearest Amelia liked what she saw and hadn't hoped against hope that she was mistaken...

_Fool! There was no point in such hopes, or denial, unless one was prepared to fight reality with all his/her might (..like Harry did..) Dearest Amelia now had done nothing of the sort, merely giving her verdict and never ever talking again to his Harry, unless it was necessary due to social convention..._

_Tom hated her, she had been convenient and easy to get rid of, but he still hated her._

His Harry now took all that silent accusation, from those people -he truly respected- stoically and without flinching. Never ever shamefully (or at least jittery) trying to slid his hand away from his -and their scrutiny- (or for said limb to even perspire against his own) That - and never making the mistake of opening by himself that battle.

Tom was very proud.

The tableau held for a long tense moment but was eventually broken by the delightful Miss Bones. Amelia's patience seemed to abruptly snap, making her firm that square jaw of hers, and she approached him with two long strides.

Everything in her sudden moves and rigid stance shouted that she practically itched to deck him or scratch out his eyes. However, at the very last moment, she restrained herself, keeping a certain distance, and just stared him - right to the eye. Tom would have been impressed if he didn't knew she did it more due to adhering at social rules than any innate self discipline.

He regarded her in return, holding nothing back...

Amelia was slightly shorter than Harry even with kitten heels and so had to look up at him (..adding at the ever-present intimidating factor..) But, while it took her actual effort, she never flinched away from his gaze. Tom wasn't surprised, he expected as much from her.

"Why did you do that to me?" she asked him behind clenched teeth and a great deal of self-believing righteous anger.

Tom's lips thinned in turn - the bitch had no leg to proclaim moral height, no leg at all.

"Do you really need to ask me this, Miss Bones?" he replied softly.

His verbal arrow hit dead centre... Amelia changed a thousand colours but couldn't find a single word to her defence, the others tried.

"Tom." Harry sounded harsh with warning (and felt embarrassed) but didn't interfere more than this (for now) or actively separated his position - _He was trusting him to do this-_ Tom squeezed his hand in return, but kept most of his attention where it was.

"Mr Riddle." this was Bones - making his voice appropriately firm and commanding - but Tom ignored him too - he had cornered his prey and had no intention to allow her to get away...

Finally, Amelia spoke.

"You are right. What I did to Harry -to both of you- was horrible and I'm sorry..." her voice shook and she set her eyes to Harry - to her credit not using the female trick of bursting into tears - but still looking miserable enough and consequently making his partner shift uncomfortably.

Harry remained firmly at his side but his voice was equally regretful.

"I'm sorry too."

_(Of course he was sorry, he had spent half the the previous year and the start of that one pretending he wasn't noticing the whispers, never making a single comment or complain about the repeat, but never completely managing to hide his rage either... Tom was sorry too - for leaving her alive.)_

However Harry's regret had given Amelia back her confidence - her returning look to him held more than traces of her previous indignation.

"...but it has been nearly a year already, how much longer will I continue paying?"

_Forever.-_

But this wasn't something that would serve him at disclosing, so Tom played his next card, one he had been preparing specifically for dearest Amelia...

"Was it that the only way you wronged Harry, really?" he asked her mildly.

"Riddle!" Auror Bones barked his outrage, but Amelia sent her uncle a look, to allow her deal with this, at which he reluctantly conceded and she returned regarding him. Her ire was certainly back, as well the fire in her eyes, she crossed her arms trying to appear calm and in control.

"Of course, it was!" her nostrils flared with irritation, "I never intentionally hurt Harry, or actively tried to ruin your reputations. The only time it happened was by accident and I did my best to avoid you and never talked with anyone -except family- about it, to not fan the flames." she regarded him sharply as if wondering who really gained more by not letting things die out in this story...

Tom scoffed in return - she was was very intelligent and had guts, which was hardly surprising - Harry had never a taste for fools' company (even Ron Weasley, the very worse of the lot, had been perpetually lazy, never a total fool) but she had overplayed her hand this time... He had no conscience to get shamed back and while had hated every single girl Harry had set his sights upon (even Amelia herself well overstepping his tolerance) he hardly needed to do more than just look at them, Ames dearest had done all the work for him...

_Unless she wasn't aiming for his ears..._

Tom's eyes narrowed to slits and his blood started pumping to tear her apart. _(..He was going to do it, just not today..)_ Then Harry lightly squeezed his hand and he gave her his chilliest smile.

- _He would keep the evisceration verbal -for now- It was going to be far more painful than death -any kind of death- anyway..._

"So, it's only actions you consider as hurtful then, but what about inactions?" a pause, "I don't recall you giving your testimony, when Harry needed it... and you were most certainly present."

Any remaining colour at Amelia's face fled at once, her face contorting with pain as though he had slapped her.

"I-I," she tried to speak but words couldn't leave her mouth.

Tom felt a vicious satisfaction with her predicament. He had been planning various punishments and a confrontation with her -for this- for quite a time - unfortunately she wasn't the only one to suffer here... Harry had drastically paled too and looked utterly crushed with her betrayal. (Making Tom's loathing for the bint explode at new heights)

\- _It was absolutely intolerable that she -more precisely her apparent lack of opinion- still had the power to hurt him like that._

For a single moment he seriously considered sparing Harry the rest but, the damage was already done, there was no point. That and if he retreated now he would lose all the ground he had gained, making everything worthless...

He resumed twisting the knife.

"...Half the school stood at Harry's back then, but not you, why?" he pressed softly, "Were you actually of the opinion that Harry was capable to exploit a little kid..."

"NO!" Amelia sounded truly beside herself and so enraged with the mere suggestion that interrupted him before he was he was even done with his question.

- _For once he didn't mind... it was going to make a harder impact._

"What then? Were you following the antique and invalid belief that a homosexual will eventually engage in all kind of depravities, children and animals alike?"

Deadly frozen silence followed his outrageous question.

_(Well not completely outrageous -it was just a subject not breached in polite company that didn't mean it wasn't actually a popular opinion at the more conservative circles-_

_Tom regretted such an uncouth breach on etiquette as well - but needs must)_

Unfortunately the silence wasn't extended inside his head...Harry's shock, total rage, and mortification -that he would take things that far- blasted him from their link in the form of mental noise and pain, making him _very_ uncomfortable...

(..but not on unbearable lengths..)

It was also distracting him from the physical pain, as his partner _(most probably -but not surely- unconsciously)_ was crushing his hand. He needed to check that damage -but later- for now there were other priorities...

Face utterly impassive, his eyes remained on Amelia Bones.

"No." she replied again, though softer this time. "How could you think, never mind say, that I would believe something like that?" she asked him with barely restrained anger ...it was nothing though compared to her previous rage.

 _Slight uncertainty._ _Defensiveness._ The barest hint of blush was staining her cheeks.

So, while far from a hard core believer, something of those beliefs had an actual, if small, hold to her. _Curious thing truly, considering her uncle's inclinations - an uncle she was obviously very close to_...

Harry's hand had become a tighter vice around his - he hadn't missed it either.

It was just as surprising that there wasn't a reaction from Bones so far...He had been expecting either a curse or a formal challenge to a duel -or something more explosive- but Jasper Bones was merely regarding him contemptibly and then solemnly intoned - like he was pronouncing him a death sentence. _(he wished)_

"Mr Riddle, you contacted yourself as no gentleman." it was spoken matter of factly, coldly, while Bones was regarding him calculatingly and with absolutely no emotion.

The insult was grave, the kind that demanded an immediate equal response. Worse so it was voiced to that pitying, supposedly morally superior, timbre -so common in all light wielders at authoritative positions- that set his teeth on a breaking edge. But even that tactic wasn't one that could get him mortified, or on the defensive.

Lord Jasper Bones from House Bones -Hufflepuff from generations of Hufflepuffs- was proving himself far from an amateur to Slytherin political mind games. Still, Tom had far more weapons hidden on his arsenal...

"Had Miss Bones behaved herself as a _Lady_ ," he put subtle emphasis on the honorific, "then I wouldn't need to act in such unpleasant, uncivilized, ways..." he regarded them without falter.

The small, imperceptible, shift on both Bones and his niece assured Tom that they had taken the message and finally the talk was going proceed as was needed.

But Bones was regarding him with narrowed, hard, eyes.

"You want me to believe that your attack against my niece was a fair and justified act of retribution, -between equals-, one that never went further than permitted over the rules of conduct, however humiliating? his voice was dripping with derision.

"I do." Tom's voice and eyes were utterly steady, hard, and cold - not even the most accomplished legilimens was ever going to find a lie to them.

_(Truthfully his latest attack had been practically null to dearest Amelia, blowing of steam, nothing more. He had been searching just for the right punishment for her, -something permanent and ugly that could make her actually suffer -as befitting her hideous betrayal- nothing easy and common as a fast death- but circumstances had pushed it on the back burner. It didn't truly matter, he was still going to make her pay (-in different ways-) in due time but, if said attack was taken alone, it was a very light one, not the other way around)_

"...But," Tom continued, "if she ever repeat such an attack -for attack it was, though indirect- then it will be again totally within my rights to reply."

"You will do nothing. This ends now.-" Harry had apparently enough and choose this very moment to interfere.

"I don't care what happened so far, your reasons or hers, its over." a breath.

"You will counter it -right this moment- and never again attack her over this matter, or over whatever she may say -or do- regarding us. It's over..." his voice was hard and clipped as he was issuing his orders, for orders they were.

Tom allowed it for Harry's patience and support so far _(for all the very objectionable public tone he had indeed done his part by equalising things)_ and their audience... _(They will deal with it later)_

"...She's entitled to her opinion for me, however low." Harry finished his tirade in the same hard -righteous- tone, albeit looking slightly green with nausea over the last part.

Tom wondered -for the nth time in his life- as he was lifting the curse from Amelia, how had he ended up fallen for such a disgustedly sanctimonious type himself... but there was no answer once again - _or way too many answers,_ if one one looked differently.

But, strangely enough, it was Harry's righteousness that finally broke Amelia, when she had stayed relatively firm for most of his attacks.

"You didn't need my help or defence," she said softly, regarding Harry, "nor was ever intended as a slight to you, or those horrible things _he_ implied," she shuddered with revulsion and sent him a nasty look.

Then she was staring at Harry again with a much softer expression.  
"I can swear that."

"Amelia..." Harry sounded at a loss at how to respond.

Amelia saw it and her face hardened again.

"You didn't need me, you never did. You had Tom - any other person in your life was either redundant or an extravagance."

But this wasn't something to shame his Harry.

"You are right," he replied her steadily, "not on the way you mean it -it hadn't even crossed me to see Tom into that light, at the time we were together- but you're right none the less."

It was Amelia's turn to be at a loss of words, finally she bit her lips.

"That been said, if the Headmaster -or Professor Dumbledore- had asked my witness I would have defended you with all I have. Same if Tom hadn't rushed to your defence -or his efforts weren't enough- Me -and House Bones- would have stood behind you, even before the Wizengamot." she all but vibrated in her conviction.

Her uncle looked suddenly long-suffering but also nodded his agreement. His partner relaxed with this but Tom's eyes flashed in triumph.

"I'm very glad things didn't go that far, but I really appreciate that thought." Harry sent a particularly warm smile towards uncle and niece - which was just as heartily returned, then Tom allowed a small cough.

"Before the Wizengamot you say?" he asked her delicately.

"TOM!" Harry's warming hiss sounded practically murderous but Tom didn't need to say anything more.

Suddenly everyone -including Harry- were aware of the potential implications - Like the possibility of allowing things to go too far -say expulsion and Harry's name thrown through the mud- only to be saved the last minute over High Court - a fight of House against House...

Even if Harry had been declared innocent there, his expulsion annulled, it would have still been too late. He would have been totally indebted at House Bones -practically a serf to it- and still entirely depended to them for any kind of future.

_A totally brilliant idea truly - if it was in any way executable..._

_Really,_ Amelia had managed to turn things from a hard uneasy stalemate and barely reached peace to utterly in his favour. He wondered if he had to thank her...

"Amelia, please wait outside." Jasper Bones' voice accepted no contradiction.

"Uncle?" Amelia still tried. The Chief Auror sighed, sounding old.

"Please do as I say. I allowed you to handle this, as it directly involved you, allow me the same courtesy. This is Auror business."

The barest moment of silence.

"Yes, sir."

A moment more, and the door closed behind her.

* * *

~*~

* * *

With Amelia gone Auror Bones seemed to take a moment gathering himself, closing his eyes and taking a couple deep calming breaths, apparently far too aggravated to deal with him, then regarded him like something scraped from beneath his shoe.

"I don't care whatever you may believe, Riddle, how you came up with those beliefs, or whatever was the offence, it doesn't make it right to attack a woman, nothing can ever do that, much less bring things on equal ground." his glare this time was aimed for Harry.

He could feel his partner's shame -together with something very different- as well the bloody crescents dug in his skin, thanks to said lover, however Tom remained totally undisturbed. _-It could be a trick, yes-_ but the Auror's previous weak moment, plus his current righteous attack, spelled only victory for him - _still it was a long way_...

"At any other case I would have been in total agreement with you, Auror Bones, but for this one, I beg to differ. Yes, the vast majority of women are weak, utterly helpless creatures, with no other interest but their families and homes, but I will never make the mistake of even remotely considering Miss Bones to that category. She's already outgrown that stage, by a million, and she's capable to go so much further..!"

Auror Bones' expression hardened even more.

"So what, you saw it and decided to put her back in place for daring to aim at more?"

Tom kept a totally innocent face with barely an effort.

"Hardly." a half smile. "She did enough of it by herself..." a timely pause,

"...That, or was persuaded doing - her family's fault no doubt."

"Riddle..." the Chief was all but growling and practically lunged for him. His curse, while on the legal side, definitely meant to hurt.

He had, of course, the shield ready and so did Harry but his partner -unfortunately so- choose another way to deal with this, shoving him back and very intentionally taking the curse for him. Tom grounded his teeth.

"ENOUGH! I've already said it was enough..." after that thunderous first shout Harry lowered his voice to a civil volume, releasing his aura instead to make his point.

Tom wasn't surprised by that explosion, he had been expecting it - as there was no way his partner would have stayed out of this. What he would have done without was to be shoved behind, like that, but had understood -and appreciated- the reasoning behind it...

 _He had some certain compensations anyway._..

"Evans." Bones sounded anything but happy...

But his Harry was utterly steady and no less in command.

"Look, sir, I understand, you know I do... But, for this matter to end, you had made a certain demand of us and that demand was met." a pause,

"-Now, while that may seem a little too late in afterthought -understandable that one as well- can't it wait until we are done with Grindelwald?" for all its sound politeness it wasn't a request.

Bones was utterly speechless and Tom all but trembling with glee...

\- For all that talk about understanding -completely genuine though it was- Harry was leaving no doubt whatsoever regarding which one he was actually backing up... _(not to mention that was quite unlikely for Bones to be able to attack them, in any way, with Grindelwald defeated by them...)_

 _...Really,_ Tom would have lied to himself if he ever denied how utterly appealing and mesmerizing was finding his lover at that particular state - breathtaking truly! _(..and he had stopped doing that for quite a while..)_ Magnificent -glorious- aura fully flared out, for once, and his green _-green-_ eyes flashing with confidence and power...

_(Probably his most favourite view on the whole world!)_

..The very best part: Harry was currently only vastly annoyed, not enraged, nowhere close the dangerous edge - _meaning that he could actually enjoy this without risk and unceasing worries!_

...Part of him though didn't want to enjoy this simply as a mere spectator, he wanted to extend his own aura too and let it play and mingle with Harry's - just for the sheer joy and freedom of it, but it wasn't the time, place, -or privacy- for such delights yet...

_His partner had allowed him his time to play, even if he didn't totally agree with his methods, he could do the same for him._

Harry wasn't done, though...

"...Moreover, you kept us here, allegedly on Auror business, was it anything more to it, or just needed Amelia out, to not further embarrass her?"

The mountain like Auror took an incisive expression, returning Harry's sharp stare.

"There are some very serious Auror matters, of course, but I truly needed to put this behind my family as well." he opened his arms, in an apparent effort to demonstrate his honourable intentions.

Harry favoured the Auror with a slight smile.

_Still, Harry hadn't stayed completely out of this - no matter how much he had helped, he could interfere too, without making him seem less._

With that thought he extended his own aura as well, not as a threat or to distract, but as a subtle accompaniment to his partner's. Bones, already slightly starry eyed with Harry's, became even more so with the addition, but only for a moment no more. The very next second the bear like man seemed back on guard, eyes snapping to him, cold and hardened, but also - _very gratifyingly so-_ showing some traces of fear as well.

Harry noticed the shift and turned his full attention back to him.

"...and you had better stop winding him up." it was put offhandedly -nearly as a mere afterthought- and presented as a continued demonstration on who's side he was, but that was only the outer layer...

Harry's face was impassive to indifferent, but his eyes utterly steely and unrelenting.

Tom waited a moment then imperceptibly nodded his consent.

* * *

~*~

* * *

**Harry's pov**

Harry's temples throbbed with pressure and he heartily wished that was anywhere but here, already in training or -at least- able to leave them, in good conscience, tear each other's throat in peace. The problem with that option was the very literalness of the case... The whole Bones family was like a bull's red flag to his partner.

He honestly didn't understand the fire and utter vastness of his lover's hate, nor his total unwillingness to pretend about it... Tom was perfectly capable to maintain a flawless, though icy, politeness towards Dumbledore, all while harbouring the most gruesome (..and sometimes entertaining..) fantasies about his demise...

(Exactly as he had done with Lestrange: the man may had no idea, or remembrance, why he had suddenly ended up on Tom's shit list but had also remained unaware and with no way to predict that his partner was waiting just for a single toe out of line to be done with him - up until that last moment...)

 _Why couldn't he play it even a bit like that?_ (..minus the execution part, of course..)

It wasn't like either uncle or niece were any kind of personal threat to his lover, ever. Harry couldn't even fandom why Tom may even think so... _Really._

While he didn't want to see Amelia hurt (or, if he was totally honest here, more hurt) he would have never thought about reconciling with her-even if she had approached him, _insistently so._ (..Even if Tom was akin a brother to him, instead of his beloved..)

They were long over.-

Neither believed that it happened because Tom felt threatened by her power - there wasn't any surprise from his partner at her flaring (and he, himself, had felt that aura before, he just didn't knew what it specifically mean - at the time) - and he had never found her worthy of any particular attention - except in relation to him.

As for Auror Bones, he respected him, respected him a lot -for his open-mindedness and straightforwardness- but the mere thought of him fancying him- _like Tom insisted he did-_ was horrifying beyond words, akin the possibility of Minerva McGonagall -old McGonagall- hitting on him...

Nor was it political - Tom would have gone for a much subtler game in such a case...

(..or even regarding the family's Light affinity, he would have made a fuss ages ago..)

Still, he wasn't naive, (..no matter Tom's insinuations from time to time..)

He had no doubt whatsoever that had he found himself indebted to Bones' family -like his partner had so aptly described- they would have used it for the full benefit of said family - never instigating it themselves (..both out of principle but also due the sheer unpredictability of those particular circumstances..) but use it nonetheless...

More so, Auror Bones and even Amelia weren't completely innocent here... He had already experienced the Chief's penchant for incendiary comments and knew they had intentionally set things today - in an attempt to either intimidate, rattle, or enrage them enough, to either make them confess things, or psyche them out - right to their true colours and temperaments...

(he suspected that, weirdly enough, Tom had fallen right to their hands on that front)

So he had spent the whole meeting wavering between enragement, that Tom could be so cruel -and reckless- to verbally tear her apart, practically risking a blood feud -or worse- to their necks, _(and yes part of him was enraged with her as well -especially considering her intimate knowledge to his views on certain things- but he honestly believed that she was free to her opinion)_ mortified beyond belief that he did it on his behalf - and yet couldn't help wave after wave of guilty/warm pleasure that his Tom would go over such lengths on his behalf - which fuelled his shame even more so...

_(...Still, imagine if he hadn't asked him to play it nice...)_

But mostly he was just fiercely glad Tom hadn't done her anything worse...

_(There was a time that had he been informed of her death -even before that horrible revelation- he would have been sad yes, but mostly so for Amelia of his time and her now unfulfilled greatness, not the current girl (which was unbearable now that was considering it) he would had been totally enraged with Tom for it but the blame would had been ultimately his, due to his care not been enough to actually protect her at the first place...)_

* * *

~*~

* * *

 ...Even now though he really had no idea at what Tom was aiming at, towards Bones family, (except the certainly it wasn't murder - and that there was definitely a plan) his partner was regarding the Chief with a serious, eager, expression...

_It was bloody convincing, though..._

Especially as he opened his arms, in a nearly helpless gesture...

...Mimicking, yes, (..and in all probability mocking..) Bones' gesture, but also far more gracefully and genuinely looking than the original - Tom was indeed a flawless actor!

"I believe there was a misunderstanding here, I never intended physical harm at Miss Bones -I have some standards after all- even if there was indeed another attack. Her punishment -that the mere idea had Harry fretting so- would had been nothing more than the reflection of the exact same insult or -otherwise- exposing the opinions she had based the aforementioned insult."

The Chief mulled this for a couple moments.

"I see... I still don't like it but I suppose that I can accept that." Auror Bones sounded far from enthusiastic yet, but he didn't look murderously at Tom anymore.

"Care to explain that bit about her family?" the barest hint of threat.

"Why certainly, Chief." Tom flashed at the Auror a sweet, innocent looking, -one may even call it angelic- smile. Harry had a very bad feeling...

"I meant that for all the emotional damage I may have caused Miss Bones, from my overtly harsh retaliation, it was ultimately nothing, not even a tenth, compared at the constant, demoting, emotional damage she had already suffered -and suffers- at the hands of her loving family." for all the soft voice there was a ring of steel.

"RIDDLE!"

Just like that all their progress (or pretend one) was gone. The Chief was practically frothing in his rage. (..that, or close to a stroke..) Incapable, at that moment, to act with violent intent.

Harry closed tightly his eyes, to not face-palm, and held back a groan. He had started to get where Tom was heading at, but still itched to curse him bloody, before Bones. It was highly unlikely that he would actually manage to pull it off...

_-It looked like a blood feud was definitely on the cards for them-_

Meanwhile his partner had kept utter calmness, in the face of the other's enragement and had even retained a slight trace of that -oh so innocent and harmless- smile...

(It was infuriating - Harry wanted to either drive his fist on said smile, or bit it of)

"Hear me out, sir, and if -after I'm done- you disagree with me I will apologise to both you and Miss Bones and will accept any kind of restitution you'll demand of me."

That got him Bones' full attention.  
"You got nerve, boy, that's for sure. Carry on."

Tom didn't hesitate.

"Why wasn't Miss Amelia awarded Head Girl this year instead of Hermione Granger? Was it because she wasn't quite there academically … her conduct not exemplary enough? Why had been Miss Granger -with the one year attendance- the favoured one, in comparison to Miss Bones' full schooling?" a long pause.

"Or maybe she was given the badge but choose instead to return it, to avoid sharing living space with me."

Bones snorted rudely with the last part while Harry held back a sigh.

_-If Amelia had refused the badge for that reason then was way smarter than him, he knew Tom -as far as it probably gets- and still hadn't realised his animosity towards her, but in the most general terms..._

"You done, Riddle?" the Auror sounded almost pleasant.

"Of course not, that was only the first query, there are so many puzzling things about her..." Tom offered another breathtaking beautiful, yet utterly provocative, smile.

The Chief returned it with a thin one of his and gestured for Tom to continue.

"Another very perplexing thing about her was her aura.., I've shared a lot of classes with her over the years, not all of them theory, and yet while she undeniably had the material, enough of it to be on top five, her actual performance was always somewhat off... It was only as I observed her, duelling Harry, that I realised her true capabilities and just today that I saw her aura unleashed in casual setting."

Bones remained totally stone like and Tom, after a deep breath, continued.

"To be frank with you, Chief, I never saw anyone, never mind someone that powerful, to be able suppress his/her aura at such an airtight extent, except her...I can do it, up to a certain point, I've learned it over my first year and kept reinforcing it ever since." again a hint of artificial, but genuine sounding, innocence.

"Even Harry learned it, out of necessity, long before I met him, though he's far from perfect as well... Annoy him a bit and he can fill rooms -maybe even Hogwarts' Great Hall- with it." there was a gentle boast on Tom's voice.

Harry glared daggers at him.

_-It was no Bones' business his personal matters, what with that 'out of necessity' crap? Worse so, how dare he boast for him, as if he were his Cerberus prized pet..._

_Really,_ he would defend him today -and stay between him and Bones- but only out of necessity, to not escalate things with the Auror, not cause Tom needed his defence, or was actually deserving it...

_(..he was so going to kill him during training..)_

Still, for whatever the reason, the compliment slightly pleased him. He felt his cheeks warming, the barest bit.

Tom returned his look with a calm one of his:

_He had disclosed nothing to the Auror, 'out of necessity' could be a million things._

Then it turned warm: _...and no, he wasn't boasting him as his pet, (too much respect involved to be the case...) He was so much more to him than a pet, had been so for years, but he really -truly- appreciated his power..._

Harry felt his mild blush turning to a raging one and he hastily returned his attention at Bones, before his body responded at the other's possessive silent praise.

"I've noticed it."Bones didn't sound all that hostile now, maybe even slightly amused. Tom regarded him back with a very serious expression.

"The only possible explanation, for such a noteworthy difference, would have been if she had received special training on that subject, long before setting foot at school." a pause.

Bones didn't deny it.

"But that comes in direct opposition to her lack of previous training in other things... While she always had a very fine grasp at curriculum approved defence was woefully untutored in anything beyond that - and totally ignorant in Higher Magics." a coy look.

"Am I wrong, Harry?"

Any hint of amusement had fled Bones' face, he looked expectantly at Harry.

Harry barely held back a profanity, the last thing he wanted was to get involved at that particular dogfight, much less the private matters of a family -especially this family- but he really -truly- couldn't stay away from this. Firstly: Tom was absolutely right in his assertion regarding her and secondly: it had started indeed looking like she had gotten a raw deal...

Moreover he remembered how much she had wanted to learn, but also held back, as if it was something dirty...

Harry offered a tight nod, but nothing more.

He may not particularly like the girl anymore but that didn't mean that he would start blabbering her secrets at Tom, or anyone else -her uncle or not- not now, not ever.-

_Things like her girlish delight and clapping over seeing his Patronus for the first time (oddly parallel over the mature appreciation of it, at his trial, from the older version) or her sheer happiness after she finally managed to produce one for herself..._

Those matters were very personal and were going to stay strictly between them to the end of time.

Auror Bones, already sour by Tom's tirade, became even sourer with his agreement.

"There are rules and regulations for very specific reasons. There is a crucial reason, for example, for the curriculum and the age restrictions to certain spells, they could prove dangerously draining, even deadly, to certain ages..." he lectured them, same way he did at the Auror camp.

... _and he had been going so well._

Tom -and yes, him too- had shifted to a more alert and dangerous posture.

"I can accept that on general terms, but not regarding her. By my estimation she had both the emotional maturity, and vast magical reserves, to be able handling Mastery Level and even Higher Magics by fifteen." Tom's voice had started taking a particular soft timbre.

_By his she certainly could at sixteen._

Bones send him a very poisonous look, remaining totally oblivious to the danger, and snorted, rather derisively.

"You would, Merlin only knows the things you involved yourself - and at what age."

The temperature dropped even more, but it wasn't Tom who exploded but Harry... "Its mostly by luck that I reached fifteen with only Stupefy, Expelliarmus and, later so, Accio as my base -mere- defences..." he could barely keep his voice civil.

The Chief made the mistake of trying placating him.  
"There are fine defences, at most cases..."

Harry's head was pounding with his rage - _Why had he ever believed Bones was any different than the usual Ministerial crap?_

"…Actually no," he finally replied, outwardly calm, "I would have died, at thirteen, if I couldn't cast a Patronus..." Bones' jaw was hung open to this. "...We are at war, for Salazar's sake!"

Finally the Auror's mouth closed, audibly so, but he was scowling even worse than before, though there was something soft to his countenance.

"I don't know at what kind of war or the circumstances it happened to you, since you aren't originally from this time, but I'm truly sorry that you had to endure such things and at such a young age." Bones' voice was gruffly but not unkind.

Harry would have gladly dismissed Bones' kind words, as placation, especially after such display of ministerial narrow-mindedness, unfortunately he knew that the Auror was honest in his sentiment. (Also this was the first open acknowledgement that he knew he was a time traveller - as such a high ranked Auror it was almost a given, but it was slightly worrisome why he choose to do so now) He offered again a tight nod.

Tom took it from there.

"Even if we take your points at complete face value, there is still a glaring gap - her current age - she became seventeen during May, didn't she? In fact, after observing her again this year, at duelling club, I can state with total certainty that her expertise level remained exactly the same with previous year's." an unimpressed look.

"Something that's quite frankly unacceptable both for her power level and as a niece of yours - Any progress towards her Defence Mastery was halted when she broke up with Harry." Tom had the guts -or impudence- to lecture the Auror.

Bones seemed to getting paler and paler with rage with every new word out of Tom's mouth, though he did nothing to stop him. At the word mastery though he seemed to snap, turning very pointedly his back at him and, when he finally spoke, very -very- intentionally, he addressed only Harry.

"Tell me that I understood wrong and you didn't actually involve Riddle to my niece's tutelage?" ...it was more of an order than question and held a strange -almost scary- intensity.

Harry honestly didn't get what was his problem, it wasn't like he had taught her any Dark Arts (she was resistant even to some light ones) and the lessons had happened nearly a year ago. If she, or her family, had a single problem with those they should have complained ages ago, not now.

_Not to mention that Tom was at his best behaviour, at the time._

_Or that was involved all that much anyway._

"He only given me a few pointers, nothing else..." Harry hastily reassured the Auror.

Still, part of him, wanted to make him eat up his contempt...

If there was a thing _he knew_ for certain was that he partner didn't, _-wouldn't-_ have sabotaged/give wrong advice for the lessons, no matter how much he disliked her, or however hard a taskmaster - it was one of those rare things he held on principle.

(Voldemort had lost that - but he had lost _so much more_ anyway)

"...But I insisted for those pointers, since he was the best that ever taught me, and I wanted the very best for her." he concluded sincerely and felt Tom's discreet but full- blown amusement wash over him.

Bones, on the contrary, was anything but amused... He looked sick.

"What about the so-called Defence Club, do you two taught many at a Mastery level?" the contempt to his voice was barely masked this time.

Harry bit his lips, to not reply as this deserved, and even Tom had started radiating true fury. He had no idea what was this about but his bad feeling had started rising up to the heavens...

"No, not really. There are some, at the upper years, that seem ready but we hardly have the time for such concentrated, one to one, effort."

Bones seemed relieved.

"Care to explain why you asked, sir?" Harry asked, very coldly, while Tom came and stood directly behind him.

It was impossible for Bones to not sense the danger he was at this time but, after a momentary surprise, his eyes narrowed to slits.

"Don't play ignorance games with me, Evans, its not going to work. You yourself told me that Riddle was -is- your teacher and you are lovers, so cut the chase."

"Cut the? What the hell do you mean?" for a single moment Harry was certain he had heard wrong, or that he had misunderstood, but Bones' expression remained exactly the same, meaning everything. A red mist fell right to his eyes. Harry simply lost it.

He would have attacked then - he did attack- but Tom, already proprietary behind him, took action. His hands became claws to his shoulders, grabbing him and holding him in place, putting all his weight to keep him immobile until he calmed.

But Harry didn't want to calm down, he had endured, accepted, and forced down too many horrible realisations, for one day, and this insult and its attached insinuations, from this man, came as way too much. He fought with his entire strength to shake the other's grip.

Tom though was relentless in his hold, using even the mark to ease his struggling, and whispering him feather softly, in Parseltongue, to that effect.

**"Shh, shh, love. What did I told you about Auror pieces at the ceiling? You want him dead, for the insult, he will die - screaming so. But not here and not now."**

He opened their link, silently asking for Harry to release his rage there.

Something of Tom's very soft spoken words penetrated some - he wanted the Auror bloodied and hurt, by his hands, but not necessary dead... More so, this was Tom, he was safe, he could handle this. A very tiny part eased inside him.

He struggled, now to turn around, Tom allowed him.

"You knew about this?" Harry half-accused half-questioned his partner, verbally and then mentally, directing all his rage to him. Tom could take it.

Tom's eyes flashed, he was far from calm to this matter as well.

"I had heard about certain variations regarding this practice, but never as something compulsory, much less directly affecting us..." his own rage was barely containable and that -ironically- eased him up even more.

"You want me to believe that I was mistaken about you two?" Bones' voice was tinged with acute disbelief but also discomfort, like their intimacy was suddenly making him super awkward.

Harry, for once, didn't care that they had that effect on other people.

They turned to face him and this time Bones _did_ make an aborted half step back due the looks he received.

"It's called self-discipline." Tom sounded at his most arrogant and sarcastic but at his most truthful as well.

"Self-discipline?" Bones made the mistake of snorting.

"Don't make me laugh, you two are barely eighteen and that thing you have goes for years. There may be decades since I was a teenager but I remember how it was."

"Really?" Tom drawled, putting a tone of supreme disbelief in it.

Bones looked close to enraged.

"Don't hide behind the mask of an insolent adolescent Riddle, it doesn't fit you after your performance today... But wait, maybe it does, maybe I was right from the start and you are nothing more but a spoiled child."

It was Harry's turn to grab Tom's arm, in restrain.

"Would you mind stop insulting us and explain, I still don't get what the one has to do with the other."

Auror Bones looked at him closely.

"Your lover already knows what I mean and I believe that even you aren't that naive but, for conversation's sake, I will explain it as I would to a green cadet." a cough.

Harry grid his teeth, at the other's tone, but remained perfectly silent. _Of course he was suspecting plenty, but if there was a thing he had learned over the last years was to have all the facts, not merely some and whatever conjecture he could make..._

"Magic creates a rush of euphoria, that's fact. The highest, most powerful, the magic the more intense that rush, especially if one teaches or getting taught Higher Magics -consequently opening oneself fully to the other- but that makes higher the risk and so necessitates the exchange to happen between Master and Apprentice." a pause.

"Still there is nothing -no other magic by itself, or pleasure- that can ever reach such highs, ever -nothing comparable- and that creates certain emotional,"another cough, "or more primal, attachments - making it compulsory for the practitioner to either be able find release with the one he/she practices, or -if one is taught by family- to have someone else to release the rush. Else there is an actual -intensely high- risk to get addicted at the magic itself and -sometimes- even sexual, -or otherwise-, release is not enough as protection and its better for some practises to be avoided altogether." a longer pause to gather himself.

"...but none of you show signs of addiction."

Tom and he exchanged a look.

"So you would have us limit ourselves -as people- to party tricks and to simply forget our long heritage?" Tom's voice was deadly soft.

The Chief sighed, very tired and aggravated.

"Why did I knew that you would be of that opinion." another tired sigh, "Our magical heritage is one thing -and it means the world to me- but there must be certain limits, at what we follow. We aren't savages anymore, are we?"

Tom smiled, his most dangerous, beatific, smile.

"So you consider the traditionalists savages and addicts, where do you draw the the line here?" edging.

"Don't put words on my mouth, Riddle." prissy.

It was Harry's turn to sigh with that dialogue, making the others focus on him. He knew Tom's views -intimately- but the other viewpoint (..while actually raised on that..) was never explained to him on such detail.

Harry bit his lips, exchanging another look with Tom, while he was examining every single word of that little spiel against every scrap of theory he had ever studied and his own experiences.

* * *

~*~

* * *

Parts of it were making a certain twisted kind of sense -to a point- and it could -sort of- explain their dynamics, to a stranger... Maybe even playing an actual part on their sexual evolution, but again debatably so... There was indeed a possibility they would have ended lovers earlier so, if their libido affected them more than it did - or if they didn't spend all of their energy trying to convert the other, or simply to stay alive...

As for the addiction part, there was again _perhaps_ a hint of truth, at the lecture, and they had gotten away from showing symptoms by the constant excess of magic they were practising - huge amounts by anyone's consideration.

But then again, even if there were truths -or half truths- there was something iffy at the whole sermon and its conclusion, like for example how much it fit with the current ethics and Ministry's approved culture -enforcing it- and keeping the population from overstepping a certain -low- standard...

It certainly explained the public frown on girls getting a higher education, instead of marrying, and even -at a lesser edge- for males... If the society as a whole expected uninhibited behaviour from her more educated (or traditionalist) members - and the Dark houses, from what had observed, were always the first in line disagreeing with such restrictions - then, sooner or later, was going to get it.

There was a feeling of satisfaction from Tom, as he reached that conclusion, and he barely contained a groan, but he had kept the link open by himself so had no leg for any complain.

But the worst part, the thing that had gotten to him the most, was that trice cursed word _compelled._ Somehow he didn't think that muggleborns were given the boyfriend/ girlfriend option - or maybe no one did, and it was just Bones' excuse to make them accept it. The mere thought of a girl like Tonks practically forced to be with someone like Mad Eye Moody was enough to make him sick.

Their link was still open but there was no corresponding emotion this time. Still, even the silence itself was pretty telling in the face of so emotional _sanctimonious_ views.

Not that he actually believed that sex by itself was entirely necessary as channelling agent -or that he disagreed it worked, especially now that he had an actual idea- he just didn't think it was the only way. Tom and he had managed fine, for years, before now and he didn't believe it was due to their lesser urges - there were many ways to deal - not just this - he never believed in one way streets either...

* * *

~*~

* * *

Anyway, even if Bones was truthful to them from start to finish, Harry had no interest to explain, never mind debate, their personal history with him, _it was none of his damn business._ Still, there was some things that he both could and would...

"You have given me, -us-," a look at Tom to not protest this, "a lot to think, sir, but I don't think we can settle this today." a pointed look, "Except the fact that the pattern you described doesn't actually fit us - you will have to take my word to this." a breath.

"I didn't lied at Amelia before. Do you really believe that I would have even consider dating her if I was with Tom?" he asked the Auror point blank.

The Chief looked like he was sweating bullets, but replied none the less.

"Intentionally misleading her, No. I don't think you capable of this, never did. But, _well,_ you wouldn't be the first young man to grew uncomfortable -to horrified- if he found himself attracted to his -just as male- best friend and consequently attempted to bury it -and possibly some embarrassing incidents- at a girl's arms..." a pointed look.

"...The very presence of one Hermione Jane Granger to your lover's life shows that he, at the very least, considered it and has no such ethical hesitations at how to play this game."

Harry glowered and had ready a very harsh retort:

The question if Bones had acted that way himself, in his youth, and so if it was in any way acceptable towards another man's niece, or daughter... But then Tom's hand to his shoulder, squeezing gently, gave him a pause.

"Honestly Chief, the interest you show to our personal life borders, if no well exceeds, to the unhealthy... But, if you want so much to know, Miss Granger is a dear friend of ours that help us, nothing more..." a sharp smile, perceivable even to his voice.

"...Harry chosen her for me."

Harry turned, to glare daggers, for such a double edged statement, but the absolute, steely, sincerity he found to his partner's eyes made him blush. _\- He may not like it -as in all- but the truth was that he had indeed chosen Hermione for him._

He returned his attention back at Bones - there was something that was bothering _-better say enraging-_ him even more than the thought that he had him capable to use Amelia in such a horrible way...

"To your information, Chief, I would have never started anything with Amelia if I had the barest doubt regarding my intentions. That and I never tried taking advantage of her -for any reason-" a pause,

"What I really want to know is why you offered me the position of your apprentice? Was it truly cause you were impressed by my power and actually believe that I have something to offer at the Corps or due to a more personal reason?" he felt sick even by asking that question...

_Thankfully Tom had enough tact to withheld the mental 'I told you so'_

Bones changed close to a thousand colours.

"Of course it was due to your magical talent," he barked, "...what do you think that I chose boys for their attractiveness and inclinations, in hopes that I may end taking advantage?" he took a threatening step forward, looming his full bear like physique.

"You think me so unprofessional, boy - and at such times? Haven't I already explained you that to practice you only need someone to let go afterwards, not automatically your master?" Bones' words were literally spat.

"I thought better of you to even think it." a disappointed glare, that was then aimed to them both.

"But you are a child, both of you are nothing but children - Helga help us all..."

Harry remained steady.

"I want to believe you, sir, I really do. However isn't it just the littlest bit curious that you offered me the chance to become an Operative at exactly the time I was at odds with my partner?" a steely look.

"The only other explanation coming to mind is that's standard practise: to acquire each new cadet at his low point, for a more thorough devotion at the organisation." he really hoped that the Chief was going to offer him the right answer...

* * *

~*~

* * *

**Tom's pov**

Tom was enjoying himself immensely, his Harry was brilliant dealing with Bones -and he had been waiting for days for the moment his partner would finally acknowledge the Auror's true intentions and put him in place- actually it was better than anything he could have imagined. He may hate Dumbledore more than anything in his life and deeply resent the influence he had on his partner's upbringing but -on moments like these- Harry's top graduation of Dumbledore's guilt's school was a definite plus.

Bones looked like a wilted lettuce.

_But, wait a moment, what was that term just used by Harry? Operative._

Tom's eyes widened. _This needed considerable attention._

He had encountered the term only due the time he had taken to befriend the younger Aurors and cadets but it had taken actual effort to elicit the details. Operatives were the most elitist Auror force, given the most elaborate and delicate tasks, and working extremely close with the Unspeakables.

Actually Operatives were considered the middle department between accredited and secret services, which made sense if one considered it - you didn't assign such tasks at an inferior officer but the one higher up.

He nodded discreetly at Harry to, at least pretend to, hear the Auror's -no, the Chief Operative's- excuses...They needed to find as much they could about said department and if Harry managed to get full access so much the better...

Harry subtly tensed up but didn't otherwise show his curiosity.

Meanwhile Bones seemed to gravely consider his reply.

"You may not believe this, Evans, but there was no sinister, much less lewd, ulterior motive regarding any of my intentions, at least nothing that you Slytherins wouldn't have considered on the acceptable side. I never touched any apprentice of mine in any sexual, or intimate, way without his express permission, actual wish to do so, or complete instigation and I didn't plan to change that pattern with you - not now not ever..." a glower.

_(Somewhere in there was the heavy allusion of not needing it, Tom hated it (and him) for being right. Even for his age (70) objectively speaking he was handsome enough to not have problems attracting lovers)_

"I, Jasper Alexander Bones, swear this to my magic - so mote it be." he sounded put out but official and pronounced his name heavily, making it sound closer to Caspar.

Meaning that he was indeed sincere but having let out a very convenient opening, or more likely hope, the possibility of someday Harry starting things by himself...

_(..even at worse case scenario, quite unlikely - even if he had dropped him, as Harry was much more comfortable to be chased, not the other way around, he would have had a much harder time driving away women if his partner had intensely pursued them..)_

Harry noticed it too and barely kept from making a face, Tom relaxed. He still wanted to rake Bones over hot coals -just for daring to think it- but now he could wait until the day it would serve him do it - after he was done exploiting him.

The Chief noticed their reactions and, very paradoxically, laughed.

"...The timing may seem doubtful to you two but, unless Riddle was totally an idiot, I truly couldn't see you breaking up, not if I judged by your research. I certainly didn't expected it to be something so sweet."

Tom and Harry exchanged a wary to horrified look, making Bones laugh even harder.

"Kids, so dramatic and intensely emotional!"

If Tom harboured any doubt regarding the impeccability of his self control it would had eased right this moment, his very teeth ached to Crucio him. Harry was blushing again furiously and he felt, to his utter horror, his own ears heating up as well.

The bastard had absolutely no right to talk about him like he wasn't there, much less about their personal matters.

"How very sweet of you to notice, Chief." Tom's voice dripped with derision.

But Harry had regained his full composure as well.

"I take it that granting me access and borrowing permission was a test."

Bones nodded solemnly.

"Of course, these are no matters to be taken lightly. I wanted to see what you would choose to take outside."

"I understand." Harry smile was close to predatory. "But you will understand us, as well, and actually explain your ulterior motives -fully so- just to be clear, nothing else."

Tom internally grinned while Bones managed to pass his choking to a cough.

"You have vast potential and already expressed your wish to become an Auror, don't you find it enough for me to offer you the choice and so, maybe, keep you away from darker paths?" the Operative tried to evade once more.

His partner's expression turned frosty.

"I can accept that, as one of the reasons, but it doesn't explain why you chose me, for such a chance and why not Mr Riddle or Miss Granger - they are certainly far more adept at magical theory than me - and its not a matter of trust, as it was proved."

Bones had started looking aggravated again.

"It's not actually so theoretical position as you seem to believe," a cough, "and there are degrees to trust, as you should know." he gritted out.

Harry's expression remained pleasant but there was and a hard edge as well.

"I know, but it's still way too deep a chasm to make sense... It was only the very first book after all, it would have been awfully stupid to borrow something incriminating now, but who knows what it could have been at the future."

Tom didn't know if he wanted to kiss him for taking so thoroughly his side -something he had fought tooth and nail to win - for years- laugh with Bones' wary expression, or chaste him for making it impossible to use such advantage.

Bones had finally gotten speechless and Harry continued thoughtfully.

"Not to mention that, while it explains Mr Riddle's rejection, it doesn't work for Miss Granger's. Hermione is just as brilliant but also utterly Light in her affinity, it doesn't make any sense..."

The Chief remained silent and Harry became harsher.

"...But if it's cause she's a woman I'm going to lose any good impression..."

This one got Bones to glare, honestly offended.

"I knew you were deeply audacious, Evans, but I didn't expect stupid... It is a known fact that you are a time-traveller in nearly all senior staff, there is no way to change that, but do you truly want to expose her too?"

It was Harry's time to get speechless. Bones continued.

"Lord Prince made a very good work covering it up but all his declarations and even briberies at the right places don't change the fact that the girl didn't have absolutely any paperwork, dated before the summer of 44. Even if she had grown up singularly at the muggle world it wouldn't have been an excuse but the very opposite." a cough,

"...If she has any ambitions for a Ministry career she needs either to confess -facing the consequences- or to find a way to fix it."

Harry was totally dumbfounded and turned to look at him, but Tom himself was more than slightly surprised and even alarmed...

It didn't fit with the evaluation he had made of his character - to have him help them evade from the law like that, even just to get then in his dept - although the part of thoroughly researching them up to the slightest detail -even Hermione- definitely did.

Then his partner regained himself and turned back to Bones.

"I..." he coughed a bit to cover his awkwardness, "Thank you, sir, really thank you, I truly appreciate this."

Tom hastily schooled his expression and echoed him. He didn't have such fervency to protect Granger, but it was useful, and the less Bones he could see under his masks the better.

The Chief looked just as awkward, -if not more so- than Harry, with their gratitude, covering it with a stern look and offering a sharp not in turn.

Harry took a deep breath, grounding himself.

"Will you tell me the other reason, now, sir?" he asked very softly.

The softness after the harsh demands took Bones by surprise and he answered him without thought.

"It is a matter of honour for me, a dept. You remind me of someone, a great deal, two someone's to be precise... I owe it to their memories and myself to give you as many chances at the academy as possible."

Finally, they were getting somewhere, but _damnit_ if Tom liked it...

"Will you tell us about them?" Harry knew to continue in the same tone.

_\- But, if he kept that attentive look -very close to the one reserved only for him- then he was going to spent their evening face down to his lap, liking it or not..._

The perverted old man was even more susceptible -weak- to green eyes and didn't fought it -at all- anymore.

"His name was James Potter and while I know for a fact he wasn't your father, for all Leonard Potter's otherwise insistence.." Harry couldn't help a small groan to this but knew better than making any more fuss... Bones appeared to notice it, but it didn't distract him from his inner reverie.

"...The resemblance is indeed very strong, and more so in personality traits."a smile, "He was just as brave and mouthy as you," a sigh, "...but also as much of a dreamer and just as fair minded and righteous..." a lengthy pause.

"James had been one of the best trainees under my supervision at the academy, the very best of that decade in fact. Extremely talented -though not on your league- and groomed to become my apprentice and eventual successor to my department... But he had asked me to include his lover at the exact same training, a neither unheard nor completely irrational request, especially considering that the Austrian boy was just as talented in his own fields..." he trailed softly.

Now Tom had the whole picture and was internally all but rubbing his hands: If Bones' narrow-mindedness before had irritated Harry this case could simply drive him at a wall...

However, unfortunately or fortunately, his partner had either hadn't got it -yet- or was generous and wanted to give Bones a chance to explain himself.

"What happened, sir?"

The current Chief Auror must, at least, suspect the reaction he was going to inspire cause he took the time to indulge on a deep fortifying breath.

"His request was declined and he and Von Bernstorff concluded the fastest course they could -as Hit-Wizards- and were gone from the country within the year. Not full seven years after this they died under Grindelwald's wand."his voice held deep regret but was also chilling and remote, at least for the second death. Tom wasn't surprised.

It wasn't the case with his _so emotional_ Harry. Halfway into the explanation his aura started crackling once again, forcing him once again to step directly behind him.

_\- If this trice-damned Auror created another crisis his horrifying death was going to be talked for generations -_

But it seemed that Bones had, at least, a drop of brains, cause had started speaking before Harry got totally worked up.

"I would appreciate a chance to explain my position before you condemned me."

Harry considered it for a moment.

"Alright, I don't suppose it will hurt..." his tone was almost as kind as before, barely chillier, however the dismissing attitude together with the missing honorific -and the implied loss of respect- made a notable difference, especially with the abundance of respect he had shown Bones so far...

The Auror noticed.

"There is not a soul that regrets those men's passing, as much as me -both of them- Not a day passes that I don't feel the weight of that guilt and don't consider the _what ifs_ ," a layered, almost tortured, pause,

"Thing is even if I was absolutely certain about Von Bernstorff's allegiance I still wouldn't have changed -or afforded changing- my position." he dared to look Harry right to the eye.

"The Von Bernstorffs were Grindelwald's most vocal followers in Austria and, even if he wanted absolutely nothing with their ideas, they were still his family and he wasn't even officially disowned. If there was a threat to then, or any sort of blackmail, there was no telling how he would have reacted to it, or if he could be trusted - too much of a risk." his voice was regretful but even.

\- Still his eyes remained on Harry's and there was an indiscernible trace of pleading deep in them...

Tom was well beyond annoyed, to have been completely dismissed as unimportant, but used the other's vulnerable state to study him as much he could - it was frankly unlikely that he would be ever again given such a chance...

"I _do_ understand." Harry's voice was soft but with a hint of steel, "...If that was your take on the situation you really couldn't have acted in any other way at all. However, exactly because I understand, I think that you need to retreat your proposition, - for now and maybe repeat it later, at calmer times, after you had thought things through." the steel becoming far more pronounced.

Again only his discipline kept Tom from outright smirking at the Auror's astonished look, as Harry told him off. It was just as ironic, though nowhere as amusing, to have his lover speak about thinking things through.

Still it looked like he was at least close to just as pigheaded as his Harry, for even that quite pointed dismissal wasn't enough to halter his course.

"I did the best I could then and two innocent men died because of it, I would prefer to try another option, even if it doesn't look to be quite as safe." Harry tried to speak but Bones' look stopped him in his tracks.

"I trust you to make the right choices, more so I trust you to quit if a day comes that I can't trust you." Bones looked utterly convinced about what he was proposing.

 _-Nice!_ it created a certain kind of goodwill from Harry but also, more importantly, was giving a kind of warning system to the Auror... Tom was close to impressed.

Frankly it was something he could actually work with...

(Tom's brain had fired up with the possibilities)

* * *

~*~

* * *

It may be giving the Auror certain openings to his business but it had hardly the cost the other assumed... How could it be otherwise considering not only open warfare was _now_ out the question but actually all other -but the softest- options were officially prohibited as well, due to Harry's unforeseeable _(and still somewhat irritating)_ oath...

And yet he wasn't complaining with the results, _-certainly not now-_ considering he will be gaining an equal _-if not more so-_ footing at one of the most obscure and truly influential parts of the Ministry... (..and Bones must know he needed to give Harry a honest chance to have a snowball in hell getting the information he wanted..)

But no, it will probably take him years to figure they weren't Number One Danger at society and by the time that happens, it will be too late... He would have given up so much to lure them out, or trap them, that he will be so invested that would had have no other choice but back them up...

(it looked like Harry was going to get the alliance he wanted - _eventually_ )

Yes, definitely work with!

* * *

~*~

* * *

However neither he, much less Bones, were truly prepared for Harry's stubbornness. (but Tom should have, he had ample experience of the phenomenon)

"What about Tom, sir." his voice was soft, but hadn't actually backed down an inch.

With long expertise Tom held back a groan mixed with incredulous laugh and silently bided the access at the secret services and eventually the Unspeakables goodbye.

"Evans?!" Bones' face had frozen over in shock, irritation and disbelief, definitely not an attractive look for him.

Harry's expression remained utterly unmoving.

"What about Riddle? I already told you..." Bones sounded beyond exasperated.

That seemed to be the last drop for Harry, his eyes flashed like killing curse fire and he made an inpatient and unconsciously commanding gesture, stopping the other in his tracks.

"Yes, sir, you already told me." a restrained huff, "You also told me and told me about fixing a mistake that costed innocent men their lives but I haven't seen any attempt at fixing things so much as a repeating of the same old mistake." a controlled breath through his teeth.

Bones was far from convinced.

"Von Bernstorff wasn't even a tenth the potential threat Riddle holds -all by himself- it would be pure suicide to simply trust him, considering this."

Harry didn't back down, not in the slightest. (Tom wasn't surprised by this)

"Maybe so," he acknowledged. "But if you want to really make a difference, as you told me -fighting Wizarding World's pathogens- and change the patterns of history, you can... Give Tom A Chance." Harry's voice and body practically vibrated with his conviction and passion. (The actual words managed it though)

"...You don't know what you are talking about, boy." Bones' voice, very contrary so, sounded weak.

Harry was unrelenting.

"Don't I?" a steely look. "All my years, at Wizarding world, I have been hearing -living- the Light's grievances with the Dark -a good deal of them fair- and vice versa, but -while the Dark always held the harder stance and the Light the more conciliatory- it was just the outer layer, words..." a momentary pause,

"...Under all that openness, welcoming, and forgiveness the lines were just as drawn -narrow, hard, and utterly restricting- exactly like the Dark..." his tone was level and far from aggressive but the genuine emotion and the total -absolute- conviction to his words were simply impossible to deny.

Bones who was following diligently Harry's every word, not missing out a single one, hesitated for a moment then spoke.

"I wasn't lying to you in our talks, I meant every word."

 _(meaning I'm not the usual light hypocrite)_ Tom hid a smirk.

"Is that so?" Harry wasn't giving an inch, "Then I don't think its going to be so awfully impossible matching actions to beliefs and actually giving Tom -and the bloody dark- a halfway there equal chance, is it?" a full out challenge, but so candidly delivered.

Still it caused a spasm of vexation...

"Your friend can speak for himself, Evans, I have ample proof of that..." a hard look.

Tom very carefully didn't react at the poke, just stored it at Bones' account for later retribution, Harry blushed a bit but again didn't back down.

Bones sighed.

"To answer your question, Evans, Yes Riddle would have normally been number one candidate at the program, dark or not, with such OWLs and already approached for testing at the start of his sixth year. It's his own actions that ensured it didn't happen and No, I've already done my utmost best for him, far more chances that would have been given at anyone and I didn't knew even the half of it..."

To say he was puzzled was putting it mildly to describe what Tom felt.

He raced to find the answer.

The declaration wasn't making any sense. He hadn't done anything so questionable, _visibly so at least,_ during his fifth year to warrant such result - not even Dumbledore had something concrete against him. The only slim possibility -the Watkins incident- wasn't anyway linked to him and even if Amelia would have suspected something to report her uncle -as a proper heir- (she had the brain capacity for it, current boring bland mask notwithstanding) she hadn't even been at the particular potion lesson to have an inkling. Nor Watkins was crazy enough to tell her - or anyone, even if he had grown suicidal... Harry was still close enough to dissuade the boy, if not warn him... So no, not even that...

Harry looked at him just as puzzled and Tom was beyond annoyed to have no answer.

Bones smiled with their perplexity, it wasn't cold, not even pseudo-kind.

"Still not remember, Riddle? " there was such kindness at the other's voice for all the taunting that Tom hated him.

_(all the more so)_

_Ginger beard, there had been a grizzled, trim, ginger beard..._

* * *

 ~*~

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBC...
> 
> Please review:)


	20. The Past That Shapes The Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Negotiations With Bones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a month not the week I promised but I dearly hope I will manage to return at a monthly basis.  
> If this chapter seems far more tidier and far better structured its because my dearest friend [A Dueling Heart](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ADuelingHeart) painstakingly betaed it in her very spare free time:) Any remaining mistakes are firmly my own.
> 
> You have my deepest thanks dear one:DDD
> 
> For Jasper's portrait with Amelia look here: [Inheritance Rite](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5236706/chapters/16232171)
> 
> Last but not least this chapter was deeply inspired by [SweetSorcery](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery) and her brilliant Hornblower fics! Thank you by my very heart as well:):):)

**Chapter 20: More Negotiations -Political and Not- Part B**

**_( The Past That Shapes The Future)_ **

**Jasper’s pov**

The silence was deafening, not even their breaths breaking that freezing spell.

Riddle continued to have that blank, stone-like, expression while Harry had started looking slightly alarmed and Bones decided to help them out, a little bit...

“You don't remember me, Mr Riddle? It has been only one and a half years, almost to the day.”

Jasper was almost amused with the boys' confusion, especially Riddle's _(..he would bet good money it wasn't something happening to him often..)_ Still, this totally insane talk needed to end. Now.

_(before he fully recalled that day and started sympathising with Riddle)_

“I remember you though...” a brief pause with the memory. “...I remember you that June day... You were how old...Sixteen, yet passing for adult, looking totally on your element with your friends surrounding you and the remainings of Grindelwald's men sprawled out to the streets. The very picture of a victorious defender...”

Riddle's face didn't change but he sensed his pleasure by that description.

_‘It wasn't going to last long…’_

“But it was just the first impression... Up close you were white as sheet, barely able to stand, even leaning against a wall, utterly desolate...”

_..like those unfortunate few survivors of Grindelwald's attacks he had encountered, either lucky enough to have missed the attack, or let alive to bear witness... -lucky and yet not- with their loved ones tortuously dead and their homes in ruins..._

Bones barely contained a spasm of compassion - He had been totally unsurprised to learn that it was Riddle’s closest friend the one missing in action (as well having initiated the village's defence) nor was surprised with the results from his scan...

..Quite frankly he had been fully expecting the brave lad's mangled -mutilated- body to show up at the street in a day or so as exemplification - _the most fortunate wrong estimation in his life!_ )

Said brave lad's green eyes had grown impossibly wide with his frugal description, like this was coming as a total surprise to him, with Riddle staying once again utterly in control - but no, it was hardly the case....

There was just a minute flash to his eyes, instantly covered by a swept of those long, thick, eyelashes, but it was enough. Jasper now knew that Riddle hated him, not just strongly disliking him -out of possessive jealousy or for his bothersome nosiness- but approaching him on a dark alley then slowly murdering him, that kind of hate.

A shudder of raw terror raked his body but Bones ignored it, squaring his shoulders.

_The day he would cower to a teenager, no matter how deranged or dangerous -rare magical prodigy or not- was the day he would surrender his badge and commission both, as well his signet ring, that and move his family at Tibet to be safe._

_'Let the little bastard try if he wanted.'_

To that spirit he simply continued with his rendition of _-that-_ day.

“I've tried interviewing Riddle as well, as according the procedure -you remember the drill from the Summer- but it was impossible.” he explained at Harry.

“He was totally out of it, near aphasia, and dead bodies or not I couldn't take him to the department in that state, much less arrest him for them, not with such clear line of self-defence.”

_‘If they arrested anyone daring to resist -no matter with what magic, or how bloody- then they could just go, surrender to Grindelwald, that simple.’_

“I took him at St Mungo instead but even after he was released, days afterwards, the reports I got from the Cauldron insisted he remained in a sort of shock, barely eating and hardly communicating, but on the very basic... I should have been more careful -and personally check- instead of letting it go.”

He now knew better of course, but in the start that acute loss and devastation was most certainly genuine _\- ‘not even Royal Theatre's best actor could have faked that reaction...’_

The deadly flash had long cleared from Riddle's eyes but the young man kept looking at him with a quiet unwavering intensity, like a snake sizing up his prey, - ten times more dangerous than before.

Evans on the contrary he had long stopped paying attention to him, he doubted that had even heard his last words. He didn't make a single sound, or moved, but kiddo's entire attention was focused at Riddle, face and body angled to match and radiating such raw intensity, that Jasper felt his stomach dropping and his breath caught - and he was hardly the recipient of that look.

Riddle somehow felt it and turned to look back.

Bones could only see his profile now, the crooked, self-deprecating, sarcastic tilt to his lips and nothing else betraying his emotions, same with Harry, but even without frontal view to actually read them, it was impossible to miss the absolute intimacy of the moment, like they were (once again) totally alone in the room (..even worse than before..) It wasn't even a personal dismissal, a whole battalion of Aurors wouldn't have registered to them right now.

_He thanked all Celtic and Hindu Deities his little girl was smart and had evaded that enormous mess as fast she could!_

A moment later Jasper grew irritated. - _‘It wasn't like they couldn't tone it down’_ \- he had watched them doing it, all day long -every day- nearly a week so far - _they simply didn't bothered with him._ He was 90% certain that Riddle was doing it intentionally, to fluster or distract him enough to drop that particular line of discussion.

_They weren't going to get away with it..._

_'Still they were quite distracting_ \- he had to admit that, … _and so intense! Not lifting a finger to each other yet he doubted that would have found it more intimate if he had caught them at a broom closet.'_

It wasn't just to him, quite a few of the Aurors (even the totally straight ones) had to shift when those two had a go at each other at the duelling platform...

Totally disgusted with himself Jasper cleared noisy his throat.

“You done boys?”

He got twin looks and smiled.

“Good. Now, let's go over some interesting coincidences, won't we...” the boys grew straighter, _‘very good.’_

“The facts -as I know them- go like this: Harrison Evans, a known time traveller from the future, disappears and Riddle goes to ground while -most notable- stays - _for the very first time-_ still inside Wizarding World’s confines over the summer, _curious thing no?”_

“...There is more...” Bones nearly smiled again with their artfully puzzled looks.

The boys were watching him with supposedly only polite interest but he knew better, time to draw the fishing line.

“About the same time a number of certain rare classified artefacts disappeared from the Department of Mysteries -the very same kind of artefact a certain time traveller had asked about upon his very entry on this timeframe-” again no reaction but the barest thinning of lips... Jasper was very experienced to let it get on his nerves.

“Curiously still, not even a month later, Evans resurfaced, once again indisputably among the living.”

The boys remained utterly stoic, showing nothing but an inkling of surprise with the obvious conclusion -and that perfectly executed- he truly needed to grant them that. Not even the barest hint of untimely reaction, or over-exaggeration, Harry had paled some but even that was excusable, even expected...

_‘They were good! Very good.’_

It was just as expected that Riddle took up their defence with that honeyed voice of his used to its full effect. _(still damn effective even as acknowledged manipulation)_

“It sounds very damaging, I must admit that, but they are just coincidences, totally unrelated between them, you must believe me.” ...while his eyes flashed smugly. _‘Prove it if you can...’_

Bones grounded his teeth and replied directly at the hidden message.

“This is not a trial, there is no need to prove anything, I'm the only one responsible to decide who goes to my department or who does not -” he paused, “ ...and I will be damned before issuing you with a time-turner.”

Then, he softened his voice the barest bit.

“You two are damn lucky this is not a Wizengamot trial, the punishment for such an intervention into time -or for disclosing future's secrets- is fifteen to twenty years in Azkaban.” - _and no one ever managed to survive it for more than seven years with at least some, if not most, of their mental facilities intact._

Even with that on the table the boys _-looking very much like men, damn them-_ stayed once again utterly untouchable...

_‘Like this was an academic discussion or something.’_

* * *

~*~

* * *

  _Jasper was blaming himself for the whole mess, of course..._

Something had nagged him with the missing time-turners, even if all the later reports accounted them as destroyed to an experiment.

_‘No one, even halfway professional, would have experimented with that many…’_

His mind had very inexplicably gone at the teenager -this painfully beautiful, tragedy stricken, teenager- (one with the incentive, damn guts, _and Yes,_ most probably the knowledge to attempt it) but he had then chosen to dismiss the idea, both to avoid professional ridicule but also to an unavoidable, yet unacknowledged, compassion.

...Later on, upon learning about Harry's reappearance, he didn't - _actually couldn't-_ properly recall any of this but he still cheered it with his entire heart.

Even now, especially after getting to know the lad, he's really pretty pleased about Harry's continuous presence and survival - shady circumstances or not. However Riddle's (and even Harry's) unruffled expression worried him a great deal...

_-On what kind of insidious things had they involved themselves in, to harden so, that even the very real prospect of twenty years at Azkaban could not faze them?_

_‘Ignorance he supposed -or hoped-’_

Bones had known that this was going to be trouble _-far far worse than what he had been anticipating- given how when he had demanded the expected homage to his station the lads had the sheer nerve to reply as his equals._

_But this was getting ridiculous..._

* * *

~*~

* * *

Still, Riddle he could halfway understand here.

...It was Evans he could get nothing from, not while he bore that so very peculiar an expression... then the boy seemed to make up his mind.

“Is a time-turner a usual, even ordinary, part of an Operative's ensemble?”

Bones blinked and blinked again.

 _‘That was what had gotten his attention from all this?_ _  
_ _Was the boy right in his mind?’_

_Evans seemed sensible, even well intended, in terms of their talks, so far (extremely so for a dark or darkish wizard) but now he wondered if it could have been a façade (..exceedingly unlikely but still..)_

_Evans could be, underneath it all, as bad as Riddle - or worse..._

_He didn't particularly care to exclude Riddle about that specific secret -he wasn't naive enough to believe that Evans would keep secrets from his lover - if he actually accepted the commission - unless they were personal ones. That wasn't what made him abhor and tremble with the mere idea of accepting Riddle to his department..._

He internally shrugged, deciding to humour him, - that seemed the only way to truly understand what was going on in his mind anyway...

“Ordinary, no... Their use is only allowed at extreme circumstances, at the utmost secret missions and so on... But, when a student shows extreme promise, it's long customary they be given one, traditionally after his/her OWLs, so they can be tested with some relatively small tasks... The way he/she handles those, as well manages his/her time, determines if he/she is right for the department.”

Evans seemed to relax.

“Can someone be considered and/or given a time-turner before his sixth year?”

Bones' eyes narrowed.

“Considered yes.” _‘Riddle had_ _been, from very early on.’_ _  
_ “Given a time-turner absolutely not.”

Evans seemed to be mulling this.  
“Curious.”

Bones didn't like this, (especially with the silent, easy, way Riddle allowed Evans to again take lead, radiating only amusement... he wasn't the type to take that kind of rejection so well...) but he had to ask.

“What's so curious, Evans?”

Evans looked him right to the eye.

“Hermione, Miss Granger, was given a time-turner during our third year, so that she could take on all electives and attend every lesson.”

Only a sense of his position and dignity kept Bones from throwing himself heavily on a chair while hearing this. _‘A thirteen years old!’_ Someone had given a thirteen years old girl a time-turner - and for what?

_‘In what kind of fucked up future could this happen?’_

Even if it had been one of the simpler models, going back for a couple hours and no more, the potential for chaos was still enormous! Someone must have perverted the test!

_...and he knew only one with the authority -on both places- and the kind of creative and whimsical mind to ever consider allowing this._

As Jasper's mind slowly started calming down, he came up with certain -or at least semi-logical- reasons why Albus -and he was entirely sure this was Albus' plan no matter how much farther into the future- would have allowed this:

Firstly, Miss Granger was a muggleborn and female (obviously so, for all the support from House Prince) and those, -while being severe flaws,- they weren't the total end of it. If the subject was intelligent (well above her male peers) and driven enough (completely dedicated) then they could still be considered and given a time-turner. But, who knew how bad it could turn at the future.

The political climate was already changing...The Minister and those attached to his faction were conceding at the more fanatical purebloods' every whim to avoid having them side with Grindelwald. Even Albus wasn't using his fame as a renewed scholar to fight it - with the exact provision that only Light magic was to be taught at magical Britain's schools (even the day ones not merely Hogwarts) and any remaining dark theory had to be purged.

They had agreed to such, which he considered very suspicious...

Quite frankly he was proud of his magic -Light affinity and all- and couldn't imagine any Dark wizard to be different than him on this, the boys giving a very fine example. So Jasper found Albus' views: that Dark wizards could and would choose to discard their born affinity if persuaded softly enough and taught from very early on to do so (..quite alike domesticating an animal..); or that, once past that step, they'll actually choose to drop those offered privileges simply because it was the right thing to do (very naive and honestly insulting) so much so that his dear friend and semi-retired colleague was unable to grasp.

Still, this could have been the only such chance given at the girl -as a case of sink or swim- and he couldn't imagine her immature, even at thirteen, so if the future Chief Unspeakable had wanted to sink her then he truly believed that Albus accepted it hoping that she would swim.

When Bones refocused his attention realised that Riddle and Evans were watching him predatorily with gleaming eyes. Evans' just the bare bit kinder, but still...

_‘The little shit had intentionally asked this to distract him!’_

“I understand your reservations, sir,” Evans was now saying. “but since you already got that far, choosing not to pursue certain things, why not go a step further and give Tom a chance, like you are giving me...” A hopeful, beautiful, and, _yes,_ honest smile.

 _‘Pushy little bastard!’_ Bones sighed.

“Evans, as I've told you before... there are things that may seem simple, relatively harmless even, but I'm obliged to look towards the bigger picture. One must try to discern the less harmful path, then act accordingly.”

“Sir?” Evans sounded edgy and slightly puzzled, “Would you care to explain this at more depth? How does giving Tom some slack, but not allowing him true prosperity and/or a career according to his talents helps for a better and less harmful future?”

Bones sighed again.

 _‘That was the question, wasn't it? - But how to explain?’_ (Or more precisely how to explain and make Evans understand, for Riddle definitely wouldn't).

Riddle on the contrary seemed to not particularly care (or care a lot) and was vastly amused with the whole thing, taking a moment to send Harry a fondly exasperated look (more like a visual caress) and Bones felt his heart constricting painfully at the sight. He truly hated it when Riddle did that. It was so much easier for him to stay on his guard (and yes, dislike him) when the boy remained under a mask, no matter how charming...

_‘Damn easier to trust him when he looked at Harry like that, when he was protective. So easy to actually consider and even believe Evans' words that he deserved every chance... But he couldn't, not just like that…’_

Still, sometimes he wondered if that distrust came out of actual sense or out of his fears overshadowing his judgement - or even if the very struggle itself was simply the outward expression of the personal versus the professional...

...And yet, it was safer that way!

* * *

~*~

* * *

It was always easy to suspect the hidden arrogance, even conceit, under the boy's ample charm, the ready to form sneer. He never actually fully let those go, no matter whom was he addressing, unless it was Harry - and then only at moments.

(He was Dark with every meaning to the word - nothing -nor could ever be- like the Light of his life)

_It wasn't his fault._

Nor it was Riddle's actual fault -no matter how obviously an expert he was at using his _good_ looks (..as well his brains..) to get whatever he wanted- though it was the exact same looks that had started the trouble. It was hardly his fault (nor could in any way know) that he held an uncanny resemblance (and so did Harry, at a lesser extent) to a man long gone to his grave.

The resemblance wasn't strong enough to even suggest close common blood -only the shape of the eyes, the general lines of the face, and those barely tamed curls- but, to a man close to thirty years mourning his lover, it was akin to a heart attack.

He was hardly able to look at him, that first time. His youth, the obvious vulnerability and his dire circumstances had made everything so much worse and the similarities even more painful and jarring...

_‘Sixteen! He had been sixteen and had gotten himself into that mess!’_

Jasper's professionalism had been severely tested. This complication was the very last thing he could actually bear. _‘Not now -after all these years- not now that he had actually gotten a measure of peace.’_

Still, he remained professional - or mostly so. He waited at the hospital until he was finally informed that the kid got away with only small abrasions and bruises, nothing worse, (that, and there weren't actual fears for lasting mental damage - though there had definitely been some emotional trauma) then he had gotten himself out to the first seedy bar he could find at Knockturn Alley and drank down his shock, nearly giving himself alcohol poisoning in the process.

 _Doing everything in his power to forget that there was now a living -breathing- boy, named Tom Riddle, that mirrored_ _his Werth's face..._

At least, that's what it looked like at the time.

Actually, faced with Riddle on a day to day basis, it was making it easier to deal with. His personality couldn't have been any more different to his beloved's (..which was on some level equally disappointing as it was relieving..), but he still couldn't force himself to throw the full weight of the law against him, even though Riddle was now lawfully an adult. But, that had more to do with his views/experiences and less with the boy's looks...

_‘Adult or not he was still so very very young…’_

(And he honestly couldn't bear to condemn a child, or one near to it, not after seeing so many of them senselessly dying at either this or the previous Great War)

* * *

~*~

* * *

Truthfully, he wasn't completely sanguine with allowing Riddle or even Evans to go utterly scot free, no matter how much he understood them. A week or two in Azkaban would have been just the thing to make them face -laying down the fear- of the actual consequences to their actions...

Unfortunately, -his own personal views to the matter aside- if their crimes became known their punishment wouldn't have been correction, but a raw butchery for them both. Worse so, the consequences of their actions and punishment would reach well beyond them, befalling the very Wizarding World.

Not a risk he was actually prepared to take (and that was even before they got so far involved in the fight)

He regarded Evans sharply, asking the pertinent question.

“Tell me, Mr Evans, what will happen after Mr Riddle attains the position? The war is not going to last forever, hopefully, it will end within the week.”

A flash in Riddle's eyes, followed by an immediately suppressed smirk. Evans blushing a moment later, the two exchanging a look.

_‘They got it, they knew the true stakes.’_

“I've told you before, Mr Evans... There is nothing the Corps or even my department can offer Mr Riddle at peacetime; it can barely offer anything to you. So, why would -or should- I waste resources and training effort on him when it will all be transitory, at best case?”

_‘..and a general pain in the arse anyway..’ but he had better manners/political savvy than to voice this._

Riddle finally deigned to open his own mouth over this.

“It'll be a starting point, I won't deny this...” cast down eyes, biting of a full lip, “but a glorious one at that...” a bit of colour rising, high on his cheeks, making him _(if truly possible)_ even more beautiful.

(And the resemblance to Werth even more devastatingly pronounced)

“...Such opportunities! Both of high quality research and future advancement, even excitement...I will never find something better.” his eyes sparkled as he raised them to him and Jasper wanted to hurt him for daring to look like that... If he wasn't sure about Riddle's ignorance he would have loved a chance to kill him, for making him feel like that...

He reinforced his Occlumency shields none the less and cleared his throat.

“That may be the case, Mr Riddle, but it will hardly be the end of them for you, even of the highest level...I'm pretty sure that you created enough high contacts already, these five days, that you could easily get a Silveror's licence as early as June or July, hardly a low-excitement, non-intellectual pursuit.” his voice became sterner, “...and all for a fraction of the effort it would take other young men your age or older, even ones born and raised in Wizarding World.”

“I understand,” voiced solemnly. But a flash to those eyes revealed his true opinion. Riddle definitely didn't believe he was the same as other men.

“But, I believe I have things to offer the organisation as well.”

_‘No question about this’_

“I don't doubt it, Mr Riddle, but it's just as unquestionable that you could do immense damage, if you so chose, so I would rather avoid that debate all together.”

* * *

~*~

* * *

In all truth it was those exact opportunities that were forcing his hand so firmly on a refusal. If it was only to deal with Riddle himself Jasper would have handled him, no question. Maybe the challenging work and association to his intellectual equals -or close enough- (..men and women at their thirties and forties, top of their fields..) would have forced him to re-examine his world-view and truly grow to become an outstanding member of society.

His friends were the cream of the crop of their generation, as well, but they revered him, so -even if they were true friends, instead of the followers Albus insisted- it was hardly possible to offer a stalwart influence.

But if he actually accepted him to his department it was hardly unlikely Riddle would have stayed there, for an extended period of time, before he was snapped up from the Unspeakables with a permanent position... Riddle himself would have worked his arse off for it (Jasper was giving it five years tops, and that was generous).

Evans may have the actual makeshift for his line of work, intelligent but firmly on the practical, while Riddle was first and foremost a theorist with a strong flair to apply his theories. Evans would have thrived on the constant action with the occasional research while Riddle would have immersed himself to his research while enjoining the occasional action... They worked and would have worked well, but it was a very secondary point.

_‘Thing was he wasn't that comfortable giving Riddle that kind of access to power, not in about five years, not even in ten.’_

Sol was always up and saying: ‘The Unspeakables appeased many a Dark and Light Lord's power thirst,’ _usually while looking directly at Albus’ face, curiously enough_ (Jasper had never asked the specifics, it wasn't his place) and in most of cases he would have been right.

There had been many an Unspeakable (lord level and not) that had - _unofficially so_ \- ruled Wizarding World from the shadows over the centuries. Very slyly passing on their policies without much fight or hardly a drop of blood in cost...

_‘But he couldn't trust Riddle, not with this.’_

The first and most known distinction between light and dark magic had always been the emotions that fuelled the spells. (..nothing wrong with that..) The vast majority of dark spells were somewhat questionable, but nowhere close to justify their wiping out. - _It wasn't the case with truly High Magic-_ The second major distinction between light and dark magic -as given by the Goddess- was Sacrifice.

The ancient Dark and Light rituals and spells were fuelled by sacrifice…  
|Sacrifice of self and Sacrifice of others|

Sacrifice to gain power beyond dreams, longevity, wealth, beauty … -anything one could imagine- or - _if the sacrifice was pure enough and freely given_ \- the power to protect family, friends -a whole nation even- or personal, up to giving up your own health for a loved one...

_Everything in the end was about Intent and Sacrifice._

...Jasper would rather jump -head first- in a lake of acid before giving Riddle such kind of knowledge.

* * *

~*~

* * *

“It's your call, sir...” Riddle was much stiffer, visibly so, but accepted his dismissal with equanimity.

...Much more equanimity than one should have expected, considering he had just destroyed his dream of becoming an Unspeakable _(..why else would have he wanted a position in_ _his department..)_ with just a few words. Riddle must surely want to flay him alive.

Bones was frankly impressed with his self-control.

Kiddo's reaction held far less equanimity.

“You are rejecting him out of potential?” Harry's voice remained respectful and on a civil level, but his quiet rage was unmistakable all the same.

“Hush, Harry, it was his prerogative...” Riddle was still calm, maybe even a little bit warmer, but his voice sent a chill down Jasper's back.

That chill became even worse when Riddle set his eyes to him again.

“If that's your last word over this, then it's time to return to the topic of Miss Bones.”

Just like that the foreboding chill, over Jasper's spine, became white hot lava.  
“What about Amelia?”

 _‘If Riddle dared to threaten his little girl he was finished, kaput. No matter the cost or consequences._ ’

Riddle smiled.

“Nothing bad, I assure you... However, before our spectacular sidetracking, we were talking about her and her forced shortcomings...”

Bones felt anything but assured.  
“Say what you want to say, Riddle,” he growled.

Riddle's expression held neither vengeful pleasure, nor anger, nor coldness.

“Why did you crippled her?” he asked very _-very_ \- softly.

The accusation was worse than a sucker punch.

“What did you just say?” he asked faintly. “How dare you?”

It was Riddle's time to regard him as sternly and pitiless as a judge.

“It's an indisputable fact that Miss Bones' power levels are very close to, maybe even equal, to Harry's and mine,” he stated.

Jasper didn't fall at the trap to correct him, that there was no maybe about it, but didn't contest the rest of it either.

Riddle continued.

“...and yet, as you told me, Miss Amelia is not your Heir.” a pointed pause,“You have a nephew, I believe.”

Bones was frozen with instant rage but then he, very deliberately, forced himself to calm down. Riddle was neither unintelligent nor artless enough to dare threaten his family right to his face.

“...Surely you must know the law, muggle and magical alike..,” he replied flippantly, trying to gain time and figure out the other's aim.

“I do indeed,” Riddle sent him a sombre look, apparently far from happy with the way the Bones family handled Amelia and her outstanding talents.

“But, while there are some options on the magical side of things to consider, I'm far more appalled about the damage she intentionally suffered, to her core personality and confidence, raised -for all intentions and purposes- forced-,” a deep breath, “to never present herself in her actual capabilities and intelligence, -all in favour to her brother no less- and what it did to her psyche, than the actual succession.”

Jasper's alarm grew and grew. He didn't like the mention of magical options one bit, but Riddle's insistent - _chilling-_ words (..and kiddo's silent support and disappointed glare..) made him deeply uncomfortable. _‘He had always believed he did his very best for his little Ami, but what if he had been wrong?’_

He cracked his neck.  
_‘Still right or wrong it was hardly this arrogant boy's business.’_

“I honestly don't see how it concerns you at all,” a near growl, “but Edgar is a fine boy, a credit to his House, who loves his sister dearly and looks up to her. Amelia didn't do anything less than any a loving sister would...”

Now it was Riddle too that looked at him disappointedly.

“A fine boy he may be, I'm not disputing this,” a small chilling smile, “and powerful in his own right, -nearly at the top of his age's magical percentile-, but frankly, he has nothing on his sister. It's like comparing an exploding volcano to a house fire. I really doubt his selection over Amelia is going to serve your House in the long run.”

The boy's gal _\- to outright indicate how he should handle his House's inner matters -_ together with his _very unsubtle_ hint that he had actually taught his nephew stressed Bones' last bits of patience to their breaking point.

“Riddle, enough.” he ordered, voice an actual growl, while a part of him wondered how that boy of barely nineteen could get under his skin like that.

But Riddle didn't back down, impossible as it seemed, he took a step towards him.

“You think this bold and outspoken woman we saw today is the usual Amelia? You couldn't have been any more wrong about this!” his eyes flashed with indignation.

“The girl I shared classes with over the last seven years was a timid, unremarkable mouse. Hardly known, even within her own house, never making waves or actually distinguishing herself in any way but academically and even that was mediocre. My only awareness to her existence at all was during roll-call.” he all but spat those last words.

Evans looked dumbfounded at such vehemence, but Riddle didn't even seem to be done yet.

“...When Hermione spent the previous year tutoring any and all that asked her for help the only notable thing done by Amelia, _her only noteworthy thing in over seven years,_ was to ask for Harry's help. To have a snowball's chance at her dream career - and even that one was short lived. I honestly doubt she was actually ever offered the badge.”

Bones didn't want to hear it, _any of this._

He would have rather flayed the overconfident bastard alive, but his words held truth and (while doubtful it was done by the actual kindness of his heart) it was undeniable that Riddle was defending her with everything he had.... Even the Head Girl dig he almost had right.

(...He had gotten a floo call from Professor Dippet during summertime - not directly linking it as cause and effect, of course -nothing so crude- but inquiring if he wanted to donate to the school all the same. Jasper had understood - and didn't approve of such practises, so he had politely refused, never actually caring if Lord Prince had been given the same offer afterwards or it was just to him)

“I never tried to take away her dream,” he said at last.

“Then train her for fuck's sake!” Evans passionately exclaimed, seeming to have lost any shred of patience with the whole subject.

Riddle sent him a half exasperated/half fond look and a message seemed to pass between them, then he regarded him once again.

“Didn’t you, really?” he asked very softly. “Why offering it to her halfway then?”

Jasper barely managed to contain his rage, he wanted -no needed- to see how far Riddle planned to go with this.

Riddle noticed his struggle, but pretended otherwise.

“...She can reach only that far, achieve only so much…” Riddle's voice was getting softer than soft, forcing him to not miss a word.

“This is not dream achievement but a pittance, a little bit to settle for - and so accept her circumstances without a fight. -Not a blackmail, No- But such a fine example of a family's _loving_ care!” he stopped himself abruptly, like this was getting too far even for him.

“Harry is right, if you halfway care, as you say, you will do at least that much...” he concluded with a far more composed tone, the emotion leaving it like it had never been there.

“Riddle!” Jasper felt like he was drowning.

By kiddo’s wide-eyed expression he wasn’t the only one suffering.

“All pureblood scions, of my acquaintance, get tutored or even specially trained by their homes to prepare for the future… She will be vastly unprepared compared to them.” matter of factly.

Bones clenched his hands until he nearly broke his wand, then breathed deeply.

He couldn't touch the first parts of the argument, _not now,_ so he focused just on the very last one. _‘Still, he was deeply shocked by Riddle’s defence.’_

“I don't care about your acquaintances' methods. What's good enough for a part of student’s body is more than acceptable for all... Hogwarts offers a truthfully excellent education. My niece will test and _Yes_ , pass honestly, cleanly, and based on her own strengths. Amelia doesn't need illicit knowledge and our family -our House- stands above such underhanded methods.” _‘Slytherins!’_

A raised eyebrow.

“Then you must be expecting that she will be admitted out of respect to your House if not you personally.” casually.

That was it.

Jasper's magic exploded making the whole room tremble and all the glass objects to shatter, even the crystal chandelier above their heads. None of the shards touched the boys, they were too well prepared and shielded for that. They didn't even close their eyes.

Harry regarded him with a hint of understanding, but his lips were pressed and his wand drawn and ready.

Bones felt vaguely ashamed for the outburst, but not in any way regretful.

This needed to end one way or another.

“You are aware, Riddle,” he said with forced calmness, “that these are grounds for a challenge - ten times over.”

Riddle regarded him back solemnly. _(Not even slightly shaken the little bastard)_

“I'm well aware of it and still prepared to face the consequences later on.”

_(Not even a hint of artifice in his face or voice, he meant it to his core!)_

Jasper felt a wave or reluctant admiration.

After a moment Riddle continued.

“I respect and even partially understand your idealism, but it can't be all of it. You, sir, are hardly naive and these are war times. There is no way she will be accepted into the Aurors as she is. She may have done more than fine during Hogsmeade's battle, or even get straight Os in all pertinent NEWTs, but she will be either asked to test again later on, or will be given a strictly secretarial position.” a breath.

“Will you please explain it?”

Bones held back a long sigh.

“Do you really need an explanation, Mr Riddle? You said it by yourself, these are war times. My brother's last words,” _(..the same brother he had deserted to live his life..)_ “were to protect and take care of his little girl...”

 _(His pride and joy, the same little girl that had given him another reason to live after he had lost everything_ \- _for a second time)_

“After the war there will be enough time for training and/or a career.”

Riddle seemed to accept that, but while Harry appeared really sympathetic to his protectiveness the look of acute betrayal in his eyes nearly cut Jasper right to the knees.

He remembered, _all too well,_ that first talk and his callus suggestion to drive them away, that they should have been left to face Grindelwald by themselves. That comparison must seem beyond cruel and unfair to Evans right now.

He regretted that.

(And a part of him shuddered at the idea to lead _even them_ into battle, they were so _young_. Proved seasoned soldiers or not.

He didn't knew how it happened or even when, but those boys had both the reflexes, experience, and maturity to handle even the worst battle. -the comparison between the first Hogsmeade battlefield and the last was more than decisive- He regretted the choice he had made but he wasn't going to check such a gift horse in the mouth, _at least not now_..)

However, he owed Evans an explanation.

“Mr Evans, Mr Riddle, you got into this war voluntarily. I can't do anything about it no matter my opinion, Amelia knows better - _usually_ -” a rueful look, “than simply going headlong into danger without formal training, to which I'm only thankful, I prefer her alive.”

 _(I'm not sure I will ever forgive either of you for involving her in_ _a battle...)_

Evans nodded his understanding but didn't ease his guard.

Bones internally sighed.

“Have you ever heard of Jan Maria Potocki, either of you?”

Not unexpectedly Riddle was totally unsurprised while Harry looked blankly at him.

“Can't say I have, who was he?” _'And how it bloody fits the current talk?'_ was most probably thought, but Evans was still somewhat polite and held his tongue.

“Jan Maria Potocki was a Polish fifth year student at Durmstrang, during 1939. Top student, powerful, some saying even at a Lord's level. He protested the invasion to his country and refused to join Grindelwald's army. More, urging his schoolmates to decline as well and take arms against him.”

A breath to steel himself for the hard part...

“Grindelwald challenged him to a duel and killed him, cursing him to rot alive...” a pause.

“He was fifteen.”

Evans and Riddle exchanged another meaningful look with Evans muttering way too softly for him to grasp and Riddle smirking in return.

Then Evans' voice became intelligible once again.

“You knew though, didn't you? That's why you were so pissed with me. Why didn't tell me?” he could detect the barest hint of hurt.

Riddle somehow managed to make a smirk look long-suffering.

“It wasn't much of a point by then, we had already irrevocably exposed ourselves, a confrontation with Grindelwald was just a matter of time.”

They turned to look at him, Harry with a grim look to his face.

“Amelia fought with us and fought well. Grindelwald watched the whole thing, she's already exposed. To avoid training her at this point, to keep her out of trouble, is at best a moot one.” _he didn't need to say at worse suicide._

“Consider this, sir,” Riddle took in his most unassuming voice. “Even if Miss Bones avoids any possible conformation with the current dark lord, can you say the same for the future? She only has until twenty one to truly stretch her power, no more... What if you died?”

The questions pelted Jasper without mercy.

“RIDDLE!” he roared and allowed his power to rise once again. Whatever rhetoric the bastard may use this was a direct threat.

Riddle remained once again undaunted, beautiful and unmoved like a god's statue.

“What if I challenged her?” he asked softly as butter.

Jasper felt utterly sick to his stomach. He could threaten him for this, destroy him in all possible ways, but he didn't have a single doubt that the wretched bastard would be able to hurt his little girl before he could catch him.

“Tom!” Harry sounded nearly as horrified and enraged as Jasper himself and tried to physically restrain him.

It didn't have much if any of an effect. Riddle sent him a look and continued in the same eerie soft voice.

“It doesn't make much of a difference if she accepted the challenge or not, does it? She would have ended either dead, maimed for life, or - _if she declined-_ humiliated and emotionally destroyed to never again hold her head high.”

Jasper tasted bile.

“You wouldn't dare, you would have utterly lost face if you attempted to duel a girl.”

Riddle looked him right in the eye. He wasn't gloating, wasn't even chillingly smiling. He was as serious as the grave and it was the exact expression that froze Jasper all the way to his blood.

“But this is not about me, is it? ...She can refuse by hiding behind her gender, but what will it cause her? She knows she’d be capable enough to stand up to me, to stand up to anyone, if only she had been trained right. Do you think the fact it's not 'proper' for a girl will make it right for her to bow down? How many opponents do you expect her to bow down to if she starts now? An Auror she wants to become, not a housewife!”

 _‘_ _What kind of demon was this man?’_ He had exposed his deepest, _most hidden_ fears without effort or regard. Jasper couldn't bear to hear another word.

“I understand your points Mr Riddle and will consider then in due time.” he tried to regain his dignity.

Riddle regally nodded, apparently satisfied, but Evans, while looking just as trampled by dragons as Jasper felt, offered him a small sad smile.

“She could be great, you know. A beacon of Light and Justice Uncompromised in a world sadly lacking them both. Even in a better world it would be a travesty for her to become anything less.” his voice was full of warmth and sincerity.

Jasper believed every single word.

It was like he could see her in his mind's eye -all grown up and standing in his place. The same Amelia he taught right from wrong wielding those principles and ensuring that justice was served no matter what...

_‘Yes, he could see her shine, even at a place like that.’_

...Still, for all the warmth, those weren't the words of a young man that had been in love, they held too much grimness, and Harry was a time traveller...

He sent Evans a sharper look.

_‘No, this wasn't a prediction but an actual assessment!’_

Jasper's heart tightened with the thought that his little Ami was to face such a future while his mind tried to find ways to ensure it wouldn't happen.

Riddle saw that look and this time openly smirked.

“Whatever you may believe for us it's beyond obvious that it's Miss Bones' own most fervent wish, to be trained in Higher Magics by you, even if she's shy and apparently too self conscious and respects you too much to directly ask it... Why else would she date boys like Abbott and Davies, but for this?” a chiding look.

Bones wasn't sure he heard that right.

“What's wrong with Abbott and Davies? They are fine polite boys, from fine Houses.”

Riddle raised two mocking eyebrows.

“...They are hardly on her level, either power-wise or intellectually, not to mention with all the personality of a soft potato. Abbott can boast an illustrious bloodline, but hardly more... I thought it was just a matter of traditional courting, but your lecture about magic shines a very different light to it, doesn't it?”

And just like that Jasper's world was tilted on its axis.

The whole talk was now taking an entirely new light, especially the fact that Riddle's curse hadn't actually physically hurt Amelia, just made her romantically unavailable to other males.

He felt faint.

Harry must have reached the exact same conclusion because he looked murderous and let out a long hissing string, totally incomprehensible in all but rage.

Jasper blinked. It had been decades since he last heard parseltongue.

Riddle replied with a single hissed word, looking rather pleased with his partner's jealous outburst for all his generally aloof façade.

Harry looked far from happy, but not so ready for murder anymore.

 _‘That was one positive thing in the whole mess. He now had another proof if those two forced him to go judicially. He would fight him in every way possible to protect_ _his heart's child._ ’

Equilibrium returned, Bones held back a smirk. Now that he knew the other's aim he was far readier to handle him. He was going to teach this rude, overambitious, very arrogant child a thing or two before putting him in his place.

_‘Trying to lay a finger to his little girl. Over His Dead Body.-’_

“I hadn't figured you were _that much_ of a traditionalist, Riddle,” he said near genially, but with well hidden sarcasm.

“Next thing you will be trying to imitate the Founders!”

Riddle replied with a beautiful, radiant, but equally false smile.

“Hardly that kind of step... I never had any kind of personal interest for Miss Bones, or was ever really considering to get close to her in any way, much less include her in my relationship. I just expected to tolerate her presence,” he concluded this with disarming honesty.

Bones raised a sceptic eyebrow.

“Really? I find that hard to believe, considering your actual opinions for women in general and the vast improvement to your social station that a marriage, or even an informal social alliance with her would provide.” it was his own turn for a false smile.

“...Especially bearing in mind you spent the vast majority of an hour defending her very rights to me.”

This finally got under Riddle's skin.

“My social station is hardly _that_ inferior to hers. My bloodline is just as impressive.” it was apparent that the _slight_ admittance of inferiority stung Riddle a great deal.

“...As for defending her, the very thought of someone at her level -my level- getting overlooked deeply offends me.” making him truthful in his rage.

Jasper ruthlessly pressed the given advantage.

“That is most curious -magically powerful or not- considering, your only proof to a noble lineage comes one-sided and through a family that's been both impoverished and with a history of madness.” he didn't put all that much stock into those things, in comparison to the personal worth of a person, but he most certainly knew to use them, especially to his family's defence.

Riddle utterly stilled, like a predator, pale as death from rage, violet eyes flashing murder and yet, after that momentary lapse, not even a muscle spasm betrayed his true emotions.

_‘It wasn't cowardice but calculation.’_

Bones had a feeling that, unlike others having to psyche themselves to dare use an Unforgivable, it was the very opposite for Riddle... apparently taking him every tiny scrap of his fierce will to not cast to get his revenge; to not have Jasper convulsing and screaming on the floor, begging for mercy.

It was disconnecting - _and terrifying_ \- this utter lack of normal limits... But, in spite of this, Jasper had truthfully never respected Riddle more than this moment!

_‘If only he could reign himself and on other things...’_

Harry himself looked anything but calm, even superficially so. His magical presence was more like resembling an exploding volcano... However, even he, kept the hot insulting protests that looked ready to burst under wraps and didn't speak until, but a moment later, when he had his rage under control.

“I find it frankly curious how such words are coming of your mouth, sir. It seems that all that open mindedness and liberal beliefs comes to a stop when personal interest takes a stake. Pity.”

It was the verbal version of the punch Harry held back, somehow it hurt much worse than any physical pain.

“Evans.”

“It's all right, darling, hating it or not, the Chief Auror is mostly right...” a thin, vastly humourless, smile was thrown towards him.

Unlikely as it seemed it was a now calm Riddle that came to his rescue, while Bones tried to grasp the reason for this the infuriating boy continued.

“Though, I would have loved to know whom of those he considers my betters would have truthfully been able to compete.” a look of reserved pride.

_‘Evans for one.-’ But Jasper wasn't so insane to throw that name out... They were already enraged enough._

“...But the whole point is hardly of consequence considering I’ve never thrown my name into the ring for Miss Bones' hand.”

Then to Jasper's utter shock he proceeded to swear this in no uncertain and very thorough terms.

Bones was beyond shocked from this and in a dilemma... It was well within Riddle's rights to challenge him now for his insults while, frankly speaking, the boy's own were so _alarmingly_ true that his honour wouldn't survive to put him in task for them.

“What do you want, Mr Riddle?” he asked, beyond tired.

A pseudo-coy look and the official tone were his only warnings.

“I want you to declare Miss Amelia Bones as your Heir apparent, during an official Wizengamot session, basing it to her power levels, and request to seal it by testing. As it is only to your own House she won't need another recommendation.”

Jasper choked on thin air as he was assaulted with the full scope of Riddle's insane, immense ambitions and power thirst. It was even worse than his initial fears, much worse... He had no doubt whatsoever that his proposal for Amelia served no other purpose but to reintroduce Level Testing without alarming neither progressive nor conservative parts of society...

Then to have an ally recommend him or Harry, probably both, would have been just a child's play and if it happened -as it surely must- after Grindelwald's defeat, then half the Wizengamot could get in line to support them...

_‘How utterly well thought! How utterly devious! Over his dead rotting body!_

_Winning over Grindelwald at eighteen, getting acknowledged as Lord and ascending to Wizengamot member before twenty. What over the bloody Founders did he plan for after thirty? World domination!?’_

Evans wasn't much better, he had known after all, as none of this came to him as a surprise...

But, it seemed he had taken too long in thought, or that Riddle had grown impatient, for he started speaking once again.

“Come now, sir,” his voice sounded warm and inviting, as though to share a secret. “Surely you must have thought about this possibility already by yourself...” a sweet _sweet,_ smile.

“Why else would you consent to allowing your niece to seriously date Harry: a knut-less, no name, time-traveller?”

Bones was speechless, _he actually had_ …

...But considering about something and truly executing it were very different, very _separate_ things; especially as he had a nephew to consider.

_(But even if he wanted it a 100% he would still be wary of helping them)_

“Tom!” Harry sounded at the end of his patience and ready to bodily draw Riddle out the room to end this, but Jasper may have found the chink to the other's armour, _finally_ a way to rein things in without getting to extremes. _Yet._

 _‘Harry hadn't caught what he meant_ _with traditionalist...’_

“What's wrong with Mr Evans?” he asked in the grouchiest tone possible.

“His orientation aside, he's a fine -fine- boy.”

He got two intense looks, one surprised and slightly grateful for all the suspicion and another plain suspicious, but Riddle replied none the less - even if he knew there was a trap involved.

“Nothing is wrong with Mr Evans, per se.” a hard look daring him to say otherwise...

Jasper smiled.

“However, he can't offer a wife neither family name, nor property, not even some well established connections out of school, or even his full history... Nothing that _those_ other boys didn't have plenty of and you made it apparent how highly you regard these things.”

Kiddo's continuing stormy silence held promise and Jasper hid his deep satisfaction with an affirming nod.

“...But none of them would have ever considered to give up his name to her favour, giving her title substance, as per Queen Victoria's behest -to Lord Xenius Fawley's request- allowing his daughter -and consequently any other only daughter from a wizarding family- to inherit and continue the line.” Riddle smoothly recounted.

Jasper had expected him to have a very general idea, but the exact summary of the obscure 1850s law (both obscure laws) made him blink.

_‘Alright, Riddle deserved that early Silveror licence after all!’_

Still, such intense diligence only highlighted Riddle's immeasurable ambition nothing else... Kiddo's frozen face and tightly leased magic attested as much.

Bones hardly felt any regret as he sprinted his trap.

“So you are offering Mr Evans' hand for my niece?” he asked almost politely, but not encouragingly.

* * *

~*~

* * *

The whole room seemed to freeze. Harry, who had opened his mouth - undoubtedly to deny that would have willingly changed his name -or married her, as of now- paled even more so, expression turned utterly sphinx-like, and simply faced forward, like he was facing the execution squad.

_‘Riddle was for a world of hurt but had walked there by himself.’_

The tension held for another moment, becoming even more unbearable, but was then shattered by Riddle's single sharp word.

“NO.” his voice held such vehemence and conviction that Jasper had no choice but believe him, even without any forthcoming oath as confirmation.

Kiddo was too much of a Slytherin to openly show relief but his body language, while still proud, became far less rigid and natural looking, his look to Riddle both slightly apologetic and warm.

Riddle responded with a chiding look, but he was smirking.

Then he addressed Jasper.

“Nearly a year ago, Miss Bones came to some, if not totally erring, very premature conclusions and took rash actions based on them, practically handing Mr Evans to me, like a possession.” his voice radiated disapproval to this.

“There isn't even the slightest possibility I will ever consider acting in the same way.” the underlying message more than clear: he would rather break every single bone at Amelia's body before allowing her another chance at his lover.

“Gee, Tom, thanks!” Harry sounded flippant and sarcastic but there was a suspicious redness to his cheeks.

* * *

~*~

* * *

Jasper should have been disappointed by this, his idea had failed, Riddle and Evans were closer than ever instead of detaching -if not completely separating- _(..lethally dangerous in case things turned wrong..)_ and yet, while not outright surprised with the outcome, he couldn't help but to feel relief.

_-At least Riddle wasn't the kind of cold-blooded bastard who would barter his very beloved in his bid of power, that was something!_

_‘Maybe, if things reached the absolute stalemate, he feared, they would accept his offered settlement in the end. The fact they hadn't -yet- won over Grindelwald -and got that glory to their heads- yet, definitely helped._

_Still, he would rather avoid that specific clusterfuck for as long he could.’_

* * *

~*~

* * *

With those things in mind the only viable alternative, left to him, was to return at the previous topic and either end things or stall them for as long he could.

The detail that he was actually, genuinely -deeply so- worried about said topic was more than a factor.

“So, if you don't want to marry my niece - or an alliance with her - the other possible option/conclusion is leading her to her death... What kind of assurances do I have it won't happen? Grindelwald is still at large after all.”

_‘...If he could manage to obtain direct -willing- oaths from them, to not hurt her, the whole tedious affair will become truly worthwhile..._

_A clash was inevitable, but maybe not to insane or irreparable extremes.’_

Riddle managed to look utterly bewildered by his question but Evans glowered and sharply interfered, taking things in his own hands.

“We've already established that no harm, will come to her.” hard decisive voice.

“If, by any chance, she needs our protection she will have it...” Harry sounded tired but resolute (and fed up with both of them)

This time, his look towards Riddle accepted no compromise.

Riddle for once acted liked like a teenager, huffing impatiently and all but rolling his eyes, but nodded his affirmation.

“Really, Chief, I believe that you're overreacting here.” he regarded him beguilingly, “...It was a figure of speech before, a point, nothing more... I mean no harm at Miss Bones and even if Grindelwald was to consider her a threat -for this- he will be either buried or in prison, long before you started with the actual paperwork.”

An innocent look.

“Or were you afraid of another Lord-level wizard?” he put it softly.

Jasper wasn't so sure about it, -though he truly believed Riddle had no intention to harm Ami - _at the moment_ \- but his point to train her had been more than made. He couldn't do much two days before the battle (..and he wasn't so naive to be utterly certain of surviving it..) but he had a few friends he trusted and was going to write them over this. Until then kiddo's offer of defence and Riddle's of non-enmity would have to do.

Then Riddle's last sly comment registered and Bones blinked in utter confusion.

_‘Another Lord-level wizard?_

_The only other Lord-level wizards in Britain's soil were Evans and Dumbledore!_

_Was he seriously suggesting that he regarded Albus as threat?’_

Riddle's gall was beyond shocking -against the Deputy Headmaster of his school no less- but while he wanted to scoff him, for lowering himself to that point, maybe he was not a hundred percent malicious or totally unfounded.

(Those nasty unfounded rumours about the Diggory Heir's murder were continuing to circulate, had even reached him through him after all - Albus hadn't said much or directly accused - just asked him if he knew what was he doing. Unfortunately, due the other's semi-retirement and the operation's utter secrecy, Bones wasn't cleared to share the truth with him)

_‘...and -if Jasper was honest with himself- one of the reasons he never asked his old friend to specifically train his niece -so far- was undoubtedly his unease over Albus' strong interest to a very specific student's power, not just his conduct.’_

_(Maybe he needed to burn that specific later and write at Etien De Bois, at Lyon - she will be safer there anyway - No, better send the whole family there not just her)_

That was a problem more than slightly worrisome...

Albus had been complaining to him and Sol about Riddle for years already, but to make the student aware of it?

_‘That just asked for trouble.’_

* * *

~*~

* * *

He had honestly believed that his friend had been simply exaggerating then as it was his habit (especially as he never gave them a specific damning incident) but -even as he faced Riddle's full dangerous potential by himself- didn't think Albus had handled it right either - _and he was supposedly a teacher._

He had a dangerously intelligent, magically powerful, high-risk child and he had left him without any sort of guidance because Riddle hadn't asked for it, by himself, and would have fought him if it was on offer... Left to sort knowledge by himself, no solid ethical foundation, and obviously too much free time in his hands....

It wasn't the way to raise a child, Jasper knew at least that much.

_‘No wonder they were involved in the current mess.’_

Albus though wasn't the only to blame here. Sol and he should have insisted more, investigated things and inducted the child early on, maybe as early as second year, and possibly taking him fully away from muggle world...

_‘Maybe then they would have had a chance in hell dealing with this in a normal way.’_

Jasper sighed again. There was no point crying over spilled milk.

* * *

~*~

* * *

He dispelled those thoughts with a dry cough... _He had far more imminent problems to deal with, than this._

“I want to believe you, Mr Riddle, but on matters of family's safety words alone are never enough.” he put it drily, facing Riddle, and demanding something more than mere assurances.

_-From Evans he could accept it but not Riddle._

Riddle frowned for a moment considering, then slowly nodded.

“Very well, Chief.”

“Unless Miss Bones directly attacks me, first -with deadly intent- she will always be utterly safe from me - only then I honestly can't guarantee her full safety... you have my word for it.” he endorsed all of it with a bit of his power.

It wasn't a Wizarding Oath, much less Unbreakable Vow, but valid none the less.

Then he wickedly smiled.

“But, if she ever asks for my protection, I will of course provide.”

The last part was another level of protection - and a great relief as well - _(although knowing Ami she would rather die than ask Riddle's defence)_ meant as a teasing to Evans and a threat/warning mixed with a compliment for him, but Jasper supposed that an official détente was the best he could get, so took it.

“I'll hold you to that.”

At that Riddle smirked.

“But I never said I was adverse to an alliance with her -or House Bones- not all such alliances need confirmation with marriage after all.”

Jasper grounded his teeth to not voice the first thing popping to his mind.

“That's true,” he allowed hesitantly, “but...”

Riddle smiled, warmly and full of understanding. Bones bit viciously down the soft, idealistic, part of him that hoped it was real.

“...But it will be a long way -yet- to the day I would gain your trust enough to actually enter into such an a alliance.” he finished for him in a kind voice.

Jasper couldn't believe that he would manage to close this at such a note...

_‘So long they dealt with Grindelwald first he didn't care if Riddle truly meant it or if he was planning his assassination._

_-It wasn't like he could go along with his insane scheme anyway.’_

“It may take years,” he warned, halfway truthful, “but after the battle we'll talk.”

Part of him felt slightly bad with his deception, -it was a stain to his honour, however small- but, as he reassured himself with a fleeting look at their hands and their other various small glamours, he had something truly worthwhile to offer them in turn.

Riddle smiled and very courteously nodded - most rightfully assuming that he would have the upper hand at the appropriate time... _(from the cards he knew of course)_

“Very well, sir, after the battle it is.” he offered him his hand to magically seal the détente.

Jasper shook it firmly, all the while hoping that they would actually find a way for this to last. But while Evans offered him his own hand as well his brows were furrowed and his eyes dark with warning and some suspicion.

_Kiddo already knew him enough to sense he had given in a bit too easy._

But he was giving him a chance here none the less..

However Evans wasn't the only one with some suspicions...

Even as he -very gallantly- gestured him to precede him at the door Riddle muttered something about Lady Dorea and proceeded to -wordlessly and wandlessly- fix the damage Bones himself had caused. The point was more than clearly made and it was hardly about his manners.

Jasper sighed at such extravagance while Evans rolled his eyes to his partner’s dramatics and proceeded to open the door - but kiddo's hilarity came to an end as he came face to face with Amelia, who was still there, faithfully ensuring them no interruptions.

“Hi Amelia, sorry for making you wait so long.” his voice sounded genuinely warm but awkward.

“It's alright, Harry,” she sounded even more awkward, though just as warm, and the barest bit sad.

“...But there had been questions, and requests for your presence...”

... _that was mostly for him._

Quite amusingly, Riddle was instantly there, possessively resting his hand over Harry’s nape.

“Miss Bones.” he was full of formal courtesy, even as he interrupted her.

“Mr Riddle.” Amelia the very same, though infinitely less cold than before and it wasn't due her excellent manners.

It was her expression though that was really alarming: utter loathing mixed with gratitude and a dash of awe. Jasper really truly hoped that it was going to stop there. That his niece was going to remain strong and not suddenly start looking up at Riddle.

Still, he got his revenge.

Kiddo didn't seem all that comfortable with the specific dominance play and after a long but barely sounded hiss slipped past the other’s hold and offering a soft: “Excuse me,” moved past Amelia, hurrying forward in a dignified way.

Riddle froze for a moment, offering his own polite words, then resolutely tailing him, all while pretending he wasn't.

_-A world of hurt indeed!_

But even that didn't offer Jasper anything more but fleeting amusement.

Amelia was still there, partially blocking the door, and looking at him with betrayed, hurt, eyes.

* * *

~*~

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wonders what Werth looked like he needs only search for Ioan Gruffudd during Hornblower (and at Forever for around WWI)
> 
> Please review to inspire me for more...


	21. Regarding Werewolves Politics and Love Concerns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Politics politics and more politics... (it was an election year after all) that and an intense love that fights for its existence...  
> A warning though:)
> 
> The alternate title of this chapter is: "The Gryffindor Way -or- Harry Got To It Honestly!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to return it at monthly basis unfortunately RL (hospitals and the like) had other ideas. Still more than a year later we are here:)  
> I hope the sheer size will be a kind of consolation. (I would apologise for this as well but the Muse control us not the other way)
> 
> Anyway this is devoted to my well beyond dear friend A Dueling Heart (who gave it the most through -and yet respectful- betaing to grace Earth) I would have deserted it time and time again without you my friend:DDDDDDDDDD
> 
> My dearest Anthara (whom I kept waiting for very long part/) and all those friends who wished to read it:DDDDD  
> (Hugs to all:):):) (Especially Angeliyah, she knows why:DDD)
> 
> My Friend J.F.C had his birthday right as I was posting this:) Happy Birthday amigo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**Chapter 21: Regarding Werewolves Politics and Love Concerns**

_**Leonard’s pov** _

Leonard Potter should have been very happy and proud as he quietly inspected the results of his mother’s brilliant efforts in the garden. Their homely white kiosk had been internally enlarged and its aspen furniture multiplied, up to becoming suitable to comfortably seat all fifty of their guests. A multitude of fairy lights and plentiful use of warming charms, already at work to soften the wintry starkness, were going to get more and more enchanting, as the light slowly faded, turning everything not merely hospitable but purely magical.

The house elves had surpassed themselves with their delicacies and deft service. All their guests appearing to enjoy their tea as well the presence of colleagues and friends to their heart’s content. A beautiful evening, not one to be forgotten anytime soon -or ever- Not by Leonard.

_‘They had done the very best they could.’_

-All so that they could enjoy themselves before their suicidal mission-

The very mission to face Grindelwald and rescue his prisoners _(his father, please Merlin, his father)_ was to be carried out in less than three days -close to two really at this hour- and his family had done everything under their power and then some to help in any possible way and to hasten things as much they could.

(...The last one was thanks to Tom’s plan, but he wasn’t going to give himself credit about it. Riddle was going to eat him alive...)

From his physical presence, _(..that wasn’t much, honestly speaking, but a wand was a wand..)_ the -very well received- protective amulets, flying rugs, and other magical tools he had offered from his father’s stash. Even up to this fine tea, his mother was now throwing, in the garden, to honour Aurors and Healers.  
Everything and then some were an actual intricate part of this very mission.

All those were given from the very heart, but also ensuring that his father was going to be a first priority for the aurors and healers without question.    

- _Harry and Tom didn’t count, they had to deal with Grindelwald._ -

(Part of him was slightly ashamed for such Slytherin tactics. Every single prisoner in that horrible place was undeniably deserving of their freedom and safety just as much as his father, and the aurors were going to do their very best no question, but still… Ashamed or not, that was the way)

This day -of all days- he should have been deliriously happy for another reason. His girlfriend -fiancée, if he was strictly technical, but girlfriend sounded far less stuffy- had accompanied her brother and father in his house, to his utter delight.

Officially just on special invitation, together with Samuel Diggory and Alastor...

_(Much good that he did, the little bastard - choosing that very day to try challenging Harry for his father’s state. Leonard understood, he really did, but couldn’t forgive the timing, neither the place. He was never again inviting him to his house, - ever)_

...But truthfully answering the call with her _(..supposedly..)_ trusted peers, for more people at hand, to maintain communications (..freeing the whole Auror team for the mission..) but also -most probably- owing it to her father’s kindness -and the valid possibility this to be their very last meeting- (..and no, he wasn’t too morbid here..) and at normal circumstances he would have been over the moon about it.

The day should have been utterly great -it had certainly started out that way- with him managing to hold his own against the more junior aurors (graduating ones) and even having her witnessing it. But, Meli had been uncharacteristically cold to him (..although there were still moments of genuine concern..) and if that hadn’t been bad enough he had also had to deal with her current antics.

_‘And what was the point of excelling in the broom when Riddle - who avoided even Harry’s games, for the most part - was just as good as he was for Merlin’s sake! Harry didn’t count, he was a whole category by himself, but bloody Riddle?’_

_-Worse so, he had caught Mel admiring the bastard more than once.-_

Leonard wasn’t a violent person by his nature, much less dark _(..the mere thought about the effects of some dark curses more than enough to make him queasy..) -_ and yet, right this moment, he would have happily throttled Riddle, beat him till he bled, or even concentrated enough ill-will to just make him personally taste those dark arts he was so much about.

‘ _...Yes, he would have managed even this...’_

(Not Unforgivables, of course, he doubted he had the stomach to try, but anything less (and there was a whole catalogue of those) was most certainly fair game)

_-It was taking him all his willpower to hold his hand-_

The bastard had Harry _(..and it was very apparent that their fight was finally over with those secret smiles and their languid -well laid- gait, during breakfast - for all the occasional defensive scowls from Harry..)_ and was presenting Granger to the world as his fiancée... Riddle had absolutely no business outrageously flirting with Leonard’s own intended, ardently talking about her very favourite subject -her true passion- and focusing all that crazy intensity he possessed right on her.

_Leonard wanted to break every single tooth to that perfect smile._

...and Meli _-damn it Mel-_ was eating it all up...

...Happily prattling on and on about giant Dionaeaes and Sahara’s toxic Mimbulus Mimbletonias, compared to the Middle East’s milder one, _(..those the only ones’ he intimately knew..)_ as she smiled that too-wide, genuine, smile and even occasionally tossing her hair away from her eyes, _(..a far too inpatient, sharp -and way common- gesture, from her, to be intentionally coquettish..)_ and leaning forward to not miss a single word.

But that was just Mel being Mel - slightly irritating but not alarming... Any such talk about plants, the rarer the better, was guaranteed to get her full attention.

However, her bright blush when he kissed her hand, at the formal introduction, _(why the hell would they need such a thing? They had been classmates only for six plus years...)_ and the way she chose to introduce herself: _Melissanthe*_ _(..not Melissa, the more formal Melissant, or even Melisande, but the flowery and supposedly hated Melissanthe..)_ was eclipsing in its alarm by a long shot.

Even her father taking notice of the atypical reactions and smoothly interweaving himself into the discussion.

_-Were they going to have one of the same? ...Hadn’t it been enough for her three years ago? Still, maybe even -that- was for the best..._

Alphard’s hand, only fleetingly touching his shoulder, abruptly snapped him from his enraged mood and it was only due to his manners that he wasn’t vocally rude. His answering glare was quite another matter.

“Shh, calm down, Leonard,” Alphard’s voice was quieter than a whisper, more like a mere movement of his lips.    

Leonard glared harder.

“Wonderful gathering, cousin!” he continued on, in a normal tone, sounding totally genuine, then lowered his voice once again.   

“This is probably not what it looks like, more like a job interview I believe...”

Leonard wasn’t any less angry but it did make sense, in a strange way... Their talk was only about plants -weird, dangerous ones- and nothing else. _However..._

“She will be safe...” Alphard understood, reassuring him on his worse fear. “...Your family ties with Harry, together with her so close association with you, affords her a strong protection.” he offered a honest smile.

Leonard relaxed.

“All credit goes to Mother.” he allowed a smile in return.

But Alphard’s smile was now turning into a teasing smirk.

“Still, he may have actually regretted dismissing her so fast, in the past... Her face has a certain shape and as for her stubbornness there is only one other person, that I know of, who can get so set. He has a taste for such traits...”

Leonard’s fists tightened to the point of pain... Alphard meant something, that was certain, but damn him if he cared what it was... _‘If Riddle hurt her again...’_

He let out a low, vulgar, oath.

“Then he’s indeed hitting on her...” he growled as he made to get up. He truthfully wasn’t going to make a scene, No, but this had to end... _Now._    

He truly didn’t care what Riddle was going to do to him, afterwards.

“No! This is business as usual, I swear.” For once Alphard sounded truly anxious and his hand once again found purchase on his shoulder.

Leonard wasn’t impressed, more towards incredulous.

“You mean to tell me that this is indeed the usual way he obtains _all_ his followers, not just birds?” Quiet tone or not, his opinion wasn’t to be mistaken.

Alphard blushed...

“...Not exactly that.” he looked beyond awkward.

For all his anger, Leonard felt a flicker of compassion and backed down... _‘It wasn’t sexual, not exactly, but he had seen -and experienced- the effect Riddle’s intensity had on people.’_

He exhaled deeply, trying to expel his frustrations.

“I still don’t like it.” and even softer,

“... _And_ I still want to hit him...”

Alphard chuckled.

“Relax, tiger, it’s almost harmless... He’s far too immersed in a certain someone -not to mention there will be hell to pay- to seriously notice anyone else, much less - _do-_ something about it.”

Leonard was sceptical.

“Really?”

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

{Tom and Harry had that _huge_ thing, there was no doubt about this, but with the sole exception of his uncles’(and regarding those there was the matter of Harry’s birth) he hadn’t actually met a homosexual couple -from the guys he most certainly knew about, in school- that wasn’t playing the field even a little.

Regarding Tom and Harry now, there were always women surrounding them -with the exception of that very explosive first year- so he wasn’t sure what to believe - for all that fist he took to the face - or maybe even exactly because of it.

More to the point, even officially together, they hadn’t lost -Tom more, Harry less- a natural roving eye and though Harry didn’t seem to be looking around so much -any more- he had been very welcoming to Sam Diggory and deeply courteous and warm towards his ex-girlfriend, Amelia.

Not to mention that -unlike him, who was sitting over lit embers- Harry didn’t seem all that bothered with his partner’s _-close-_ attention to a girl -not even their chosen beard- but was instead completely immersed into a thoroughly political discussion, consisting of Chief Auror Bones, Undersecretary Diggory, and Ignatius Prewett -most notable as Wizengamot’s youngest member- all prestigious, renowned - _leading-_ members of the moderately progressive block.

\- The weird part was that Riddle - _wasn’t-_ taking part into said discussion.}

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

His cousin took a deep breath (..making sure no one was watching their exchange..) and hurriedly elaborated with his explanation.   

“Look, he’s most probably trying to get at someone’s nerves, one that’s been most politely ignoring him since the morning and he doesn’t like that, as in _at all_.”

Leonard blinked and blinked again, turning to take the situation in with a far more careful eye.

It seemed that he had it way wrong with these two -roving eyes or not- as for all the apparent attention Riddle paid Meli he was still at an angle to keep an eye on Harry without appearing to be doing so - and most probably not missing even a word from his lips as well.

 _‘How the hell did he manage to do that?’_ It still boggled Leonard’s mind.

Harry on the other hand made him smile. His (..in all probability..) close cousin was still busy with his talk and serious enough to not take even a slight notice of other things...

_‘Or so it seemed.’_

The way he ignored Riddle couldn’t have been subtler, or more complete, if only the occasional flash to his eyes had not betrayed his true feelings. Riddle must be going utterly mad here. - _‘Melissa wasn’t even a distraction.’_ Leonard relaxed.

Then he realised at - _what-_ exactly he was relaxing at.

“Merlin, not again!”

Only his ingrained training stopped him from letting out a rather loud groan.

Alphard offered a superior smile.   

“...This..? This is nothing, mere appetizing games, nothing out the ordinary.”

Leonard couldn’t help but goggle at him.

“You think?” his voice couldn’t be drier.

Alphard’s reply was an elegant shrug and a cool:  
“It’s a public place.”

Leonard supposed that this was something, but his stomach clenched none the less for the moment that that was going to change. _‘He wondered if his house was going to survive it this time.’_

Harry -to someone not intimately attuned to his behaviour- appeared indifferent to Riddle’s shenanigans, going passionately about his subject and not sparing a single glance elsewhere, but Leonard wasn’t that ignorant. He was hosting these men at his very home - worse so, he had lived through that deadly cold fight and could now recognise the same strain to the other’s patience, the hidden hurt, the building and building rage...

_‘At least it wasn’t that deadly calm that sometimes haunted his nightmares...’_

However, as Riddle moved on to even more dangerous plants - monsters truly - and the defences they could offer at an estate and Melissa not only kept up with him but boldly countered him _-even outright correcting him!-_ (..probably enraging him - and very publicly exposing herself for possessing dark knowledge to boot..) and Harry very calmly stating: _(right to Wizengamot members!)_ that:

‘‘Unless all magical races-’’ _(..meaning all magical creatures!)_ ‘‘-were given all due respect, acknowledged all due rights and were offered all due opportunities then no matter what may happen with Grindelwald there wasn’t going to be any actual growing, much less prosperity, for the Wizarding world!’’

...Leonard realised that it could get much - _much_ \- worse.

The whole kiosk seemed to freeze for a moment and they all focused on Harry - as something totally alien to them...   

\- _Not even Albus Dumbledore (commonly on the hedging side) had ever dared to openly declare something so outright revolutionary!_    

(Leonard himself -and this was considered a very progressive stance- believed in live and let live - or leave them alone and no one gets hurt - but this seemed way too huge and generalised even to him)

Even Riddle himself appeared stone-like, but only for a single moment. However, as Hermione Granger started enthusiastically clapping, the frigidness in Riddle’s form smoothly melted to warm approval and he started clapping as well.

Apparently choosing to show solidarity -over any personal opinion- with Diggory, Prince, Malfoy, Minerva, Alphard and even Miss Bones following suit...    

Leonard didn’t think it much -he had already chosen his road- imitating them - but, much to his surprise Meli followed him right after.

It didn’t seem enough to break the frozen atmosphere. The aurors seemed utterly uneasy, the Wizengamot members even more so. Ignatius Prewett looking far from pleased, George Diggory completely stunned, staring bemusedly -to plain frazzled- towards his son, and Lord Jasper Bones inscrutable as a sphinx.

However, before his mother could offer a light comment, to ease things -as it was unofficially required from her as the hostess- the later one seemed to finally settle on and he offered them all -firstly at Harry- a genuinely warm smile.

“You are so young -such dreamers, all of you- time will tell if this could ever prove more than a dream. I certainly hope so.”

Unfortunately that wasn’t the end of it... Ignatius’ Prewett opinion was obviously very different and it seemed to take the better of him, after a brief struggle.

“But they are monsters!” clenching his hand to his right shoulder - he exclaimed.

Still, seeing no instant agreement to his statement he amended it to a softer:

“At least some of them.” his hand remained to his shoulder where -gossip had it- he had been scratched by a werewolf.

“Only for a scant three days a month.” Granger hurried to counter him.

“No one disagrees about the danger...” Riddle smoothly pointed out. “...But that’s hardly a valid reason for us to just gift them at Grindelwald... Not when there are so many other options to be found and new solutions that can serve us, to a far wider range of problems.”

Harry sent Riddle a look full of warm approval but not surprise - _so maybe they had indeed talked about this._ But, while the whole kiosk seemed to furiously buzz, Auror Prewett was still far from ready to admit defeat.

“No one’s gifting Grindelwald anything - even he knows better than to trust them. We may all wish otherwise, but the fact remains -they are dark creatures- and no matter what the Ministry will offer them, or do, nothing will ever change their wild, savage nature.” he stopped there, looking grimly satisfied with himself.

“Oh, really?” Harry’s voice was hard and with a slight mocking edge - close to, but not exactly, at dangerous waters.    

“...From what I recall there is no actual record of born -not bitten- werewolves nor numbers to support such possibility. They are ours...”

Still, this subject seemed to matter Harry a great deal, as -gradually- the mocking harshness had left his voice, giving room to actual passion. Leonard found himself transfixed. He wasn’t alone.    

Every single sound, but Harry’s voice, had been hushed to listen, every single eye was riveted to him.

“...Every single werewolf to our shores -man or woman- is a citizen of this country -of this Ministry- and the sole reason they fall to a life of crime -or worse- and are such a danger to our society is because there wasn’t any kind of support for them -or even options- they were just instantly ostracised after the bite.”

Leonard’s ears buzzed and his heart was suddenly beating at a weird rhythm.

He was finding himself really truly contemplating things he had never honestly bothered to, before… Only John _-John Lupin-_ once before, had ever dared to hint a shadow of such beliefs, but never as openly or boldly. This extend was a total surprise to him.

“Yes, Leonard, this is real! He is for real!” the soft whisper nearly made him jump out of his skin.

He glared daggers at Alphard, but his cousin merely offered him a jaunty smile.

“He is for real.” he repeated more intensely, but just as merrily.

Leonard’s mouth fell open with this. Alphard wasn’t exactly bloodthirsty, as some of their Black relatives -who advocated hunting werewolves - and/or muggles- for sport, but hardly one for social sensitivity.

Alphard clucked wryly.

“Harry had been mentored by a werewolf some years ago, I never got the chance to actually meet him but, from Harry’s words, he was a very remarkable individual and if all -or at least some- of them have such potential it will be a true crime to let things continue as they are.”

Leonard was even more confused by this -if at all possible-   

‘ _...A werewolf? How? When? Where Harry met him? Was it to one of the rumoured werewolf’s villages, where werewolves supposedly passed for muggles? How did he died?’_ -for Alphard had spoken on the past tense- The questions about his very mysterious relative grow with every new day.

Alphard shook his head, looking quite amused.    

“Leave the contemplations for later, this won’t end here... -No way they’ll allow it- You’ll miss out.” For all the genuine amusement there was something quite grim, even protective, at his cousin’s tone.

But Leonard, now that he had understood, couldn’t wait for the maybe...  
He hated being a mere spectator and needed to do something useful. So, while he kept half an ear for any vocal protests, his eyes slowly tracing reactions by body language.

_‘How many had been overwhelmed to his words, without question, how many had doubts, and how many outright hated it, even if they were taken by his passion?’_

Thankfully no one seemed openly aggressive, or even passively so... There weren’t raised fists, angry mutters, snubbing, or even boos... They were very polite. But that didn’t mean they were dismissive or unruffled, no matter how many of them tried to shook their heads and declare him -to themselves and others- as just a teen, or way soft-hearted... The way they couldn’t take their eyes of him bellied any frigid conclusion.

Harry had certainly made an impression to them, touching them exactly where it hurt (him as well) and they weren’t going to forget it, not now or ever - it was just going to take them time actually admit it... It may take years for an actual solution and his cousin had a lot of work but the seed had been plant.

But his inner musings were once again interrupted by Auror Prewett.  
_(Damn it, Alphard had been right!)_

“...They are beasts! Some of them are nothing but beasts, even apart from the full moon.” he sounded desperate, his voice near plaintive - though much lower than before - but still carrying through (with most of the Aurors pretending not to hear a thing) and Leonard wondered what kind of a horrifying experience would have done that to a hardened Auror...

_(...and Ignatius Prewett was indeed a skilled and hardened Auror...)_

Harry neither dismissed this nor made the bad mistake to handle him as mentally unstable. Also he was far from coddling.

“I know this -and I’m not giving them blanket forgiveness- but would you honestly put them all at the same sack?” his voice was just as low, but with a commanding quality. Leonard had to strain his ears to listen.

“Of course not,” the Auror scoffed. “We aren’t monsters to kill indiscriminately. We need to have killing proof, or at least proof of attack, to kill a werewolf, out of self-defence.” he quoted the law, far more assured.

“But we can’t trust them -you never know when one of them will just attack- so we do our best to drive them away from any wizarding -or muggle- settlement... They are hardy creatures, they survive on the mountains just fine.” For all his returning confidence and self-assurance, on the last bit, he sounded doubtful.

“I see.” Harry sounded exactly the same way as when he had verbally decimated him and Leonard mentally consoled the Auror.

“So, you really wouldn’t kill them all, if given the choice?” Harry was infuriatingly casual about it.

Predictably -thankfully- Prewett choked on his own breath, his face paling - _so-_ hard that his freckles seemed like dark paint.    

“You -you- Bastard!” he grabbed Harry by the lapels of his robe, “...You don’t know shit, of course I wouldn’t. I’m not a Nazi -or Grindelwaldian- to even think it.”

Harry remained utterly calm to that virulent explosion. He didn’t offer any kind of resistance, not even when Prewett started shaking him.    

“But why? - if they are monsters? ...What’s the point to let them live, when they’re nothing but - and there’s no hope.”

(..Leonard was ready to eat his nails but he noticed that while Alphard had tensed too it was hardly to the same extend as himself and his wand remained hidden..) But no one was daring to interfere at this, even with a loud breath.

Prewett let Harry go, looking utterly disgusted, and very notably keeping his hands away from his body, like he had grabbed something utterly filthy.

“Because -I-” he stretched it, “...am not a monster... Merlin, you are mental! Only a Dark Wizard like you would have had a problem understanding this!”

Leonard really didn’t get this one...  
_‘To go accusing him as Dark Wizard after such a defence? It wasn’t making any sense. Well, there was that permit, but still...’_

“Enough!” Bones thundered, the last comment leading him to once again interfere. Neither Prewett nor Harry seemed to actually notice.

“...So, you say, that their current total isolation and utterly harsh circumstances -anything less than death truly- is perfectly acceptable -they are hardy creatures after all...” Harry continued with the same casualness, totally ignoring Prewett’s snarling.

“...But what about their children?” the last - _very-_ unexpected question hitting them like a bomb.

“Children? There are no children!” Prewett snarled even harder but he had turned a puce green.    

“...You, yourself, just declared there is no Werewolf procreation, so stop lying and trying to confuse things.”

This time Harry stiffened with anger but still managed to keep a calm appearance with some effort.

“It’s no lie, and you’ll have known if you had just checked… The statistics are quite clear and found at the Auror department. There may not be werewolf births, per se, but the packs, especially those with inhibited, savage Alphas are completely full of children and teens either bitten -and then kidnapped- at a full moon, or taken later, after they were deserted by their parents... Who of you hadn’t heard about Fenrir Greyback?”

The uneasy susurration returned, even more intense than before... Auror Prewett though hadn’t any sort of available dissent to this. He had merely collapsed in his chair, trembling like a leaf.

“I didn’t know...” he kept muttering, “I didn’t want to know, couldn’t stand it...”

But another Auror back at the most distant tables, one he wasn’t certain he could recognise, was all too happy to take his place. _(..not exposing himself of course..)_ “He’s just Greyback, he’s a menace, but how many kids can he take?”

That made Harry finally verbally explode.

“... _Any child,_ bitten and forcibly taken, is one too many children.” then he sighed.

“But, unfortunately it’s not just Greyback...There are at least some other packs that their Alphas follow the exact same tactic and even those unwilling to directly prey at them need children and teens to man and future their packs. They take any hungry orphaned deserted kid they find - and the war has given them many an option.”

_-That one was giving him many dreadful possibilities for Harry’s past to consider._

“Muggles!” That hateful voice sneered once again.

“Yes, muggles...” Harry snapped right back, then stopped, not quite so fast with a calm answer. He seemed to struggle for control.

...Even his magic appeared -nearly tangible- like tiny sparks, surrounding him and crackling with power. Harry himself didn’t seem paying it much -if any- attention... He kept staring forward clenching and unclenching his fists...

Leonard felt frozen with fear - _‘This looked way too close to the Crisis!’_

After a single -too tense- moment the magic itself seemed to finally calm, settling around him like a cloak before fading from view, still immensely powerful, but now completely under his control.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Instinctively Leonard’s eyes had searched for Riddle…  
_(that was where Harry looked after all)_

It wasn’t his curiosity that drove him doing that (..though undoubtedly there..) more like a need for reassurance that Riddle was indeed there, -perpetually prepared to handle things- and never actually failing to bring Harry back from whatever kind of mental brink he tended to fall _(..he had seen him do the exact that at so much worse circumstances..)_ those five meters separating them hardly seeming there.

Leonard wasn’t mistaken, Riddle was indeed utterly fixated at Harry, nothing else. Body too still, for the relaxed calmness he presented, -at a first glance- his posture had something of a coiled spring. His burning _fixed_ stare seeing nothing but him and conveying nothing but strength, concern, and support...

And with the dangerous moment passing -as Harry seemed to relax- radiating just relief, possessiveness, and fierce pride.

...There wasn’t even a hint of maliciousness or resentment...

\- _How could it be so with someone openly addressed as a Dark Lord?_

_That wasn’t a mask (..he had already seen plenty of those..) - it was too honest and unguarded a moment._

The last bit confused him a lot, if he was honest. He knew that Riddle loved Harry above everything _(..how could he not with all that he had witnessed..)_ but he really truly couldn’t see how someone with Riddle’s ego could handle -much less so be so comfortable- of Harry’s complete command of the kiosk and of everyone present. There was no way he was happy with Harry perceived as the true leader.

-That- and, of course, the very way Harry was handling this subject... Leonard had never heard anyone voicing anything more intensely pro-light!

(Even muggle defence was way tamer in comparison)

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

He was still puzzling about this even as Harry continued with his verbal fire.

“...People like you and me, living breathing beings, with as much right to comfort and safety as any of us...  Just as fallible and insignificant, or bright and capable of greatness. -Humans-” his voice was pointed and meant to carry, accepting not even a shred of compromise.

Most of the Aurors, he could see, appeared ruffled to be called on carpet like that, but no one dared to directly challenge him - not when no one had reacted to that condescending ‘Muggles’ not after that show of power...

But Leonard, while intensely relieved that the whole thing was going to end here, noticed this more or less peripherally, as his instincts insisted he should keep an eye at the bigger hindrance or succour - and he had finally hit bull’s eye - as he saw the very reaction he had been expecting...

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

...It was merely a small bitter tilt of Riddle’s mouth, at Harry’s hot muggle defence, a tightening over the word ‘greatness’. Nothing major truly -or even deeply hidden- certainly nothing nastier, merely the difference of an opinion, but the bitterness was most certainly there..

_(...there must be quite a story at Riddle’s past...)_

Still, Leonard wasn’t overtly worried with this...    

Riddle was a saint, compared to before, and he honestly trusted more a consistent -if much softer- opinion than a complete turn over... it was far more real.

He relaxed and ate a tiny sandwich.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

 However the atmosphere was getting heavy...

Harry undoubtedly saw this and he seemed to weigh things, for a moment, but then his jaw hardened and he settled on a decision. (...Leonard was almost terrified to hear what made him hesitate after such already incendiary words...)

“...Its not openly acknowledged, nor history my strong subject, yet it’s outright impossible not to notice a subtle -well hidden- resentment towards muggles, for forcing us to live on their shadow…. But, did you ever stopped to actually consider the muggle side regarding this?”

“I mean, why would, the royal couple, should have protected us, against discrimination? When we, our ancestors, were openly discriminating against Werewolves, House Elves, and Merpeople -to mention only just a few cases- and said discrimination continues up till today, probably having eased not one bit? I -for one- don’t blame them.”

His voice was far quieter than before but it didn’t lessen its impact to the slightest.

That wasn’t a mere political statement. It was a giant slap at the British Wizarding community’s collective face and centuries of accumulating bitterness regarding that part of their History.

(...Even Leonard felt his face heating up with indignation to this and yet he was one of the rare few - not only avoiding any sort of antipathy towards muggles, in either principle or everyday life, but actually holding a -relative- ease and familiarity with them and their ways...)

Someone gasped (he thought it was one of the politicians) but was way too frozen to check... He met his mother’s equally dismayed eyes and tried to convey as much strength he could, just as hers conveyed calmness. They couldn’t afford anything else. _\- They had to stay tall and deal._

(...Even the option of defusing the tension was out the table -except maybe as last resort- as even a single word that could get perceived as rebuff towards Harry -and settle things to that direction- was going to mar them -their House- among Wizards, as the ones permitting him such catholic disrespect...)

 _(_ ... _And yet in that tense atmosphere Granger looked at Harry with utter love - even adoration, like if he had turned to Merlin - or hang the moon in his spare time...)_

Still, not even Hermione Granger dared applause at this, for all her obviously heartfelt approval, nor Senior Auror Bones to openly _(..or at all..)_ support him - (though both his niece and Sam Diggory gazed at Harry with a near Hermione- esque kind of adoration)  

-Not when the tension was so thick and war-like that it needed just the barest spark, a single curse -or even just a mere jinx- from a hothead, for all hell to break loose - and the kiosk to turn into an actual bloodbath. There had been Blood-Feuds started for much less.

Leonard prayed with all his might -to Magic- that things weren’t going to go that far, but he still flicked, as covertly and unobtrusively he could, his wand at his palm and knew, even without having caught a single shift, that Alphard -and the rest of the gang- had done the exact same.

No, wrong to that, they had done so the very moment that deadly silence had fallen to their heads.

Alphard looked pale as ghost and too enraged to speak but Leonard didn’t doubt that he -too- would give his life to protect Harry’s - If it came to this.

It was only after the lethal silence strained even more, without any of the Aurors daring to go for that first shot, to pay back the affront, that Auror Bones finally attempted to ease things.

“...You have a righteous and kind heart, Mr Evans, but also a razor barbed tongue that could hurt you, as well your cause, maybe even get you killed.” an intense look, but his voice held genuine warning not a masked threat.

For a moment Harry looked bashful. Not regretful of his words -not even a bit- but honestly considering if he had pushed things too far.

“I’m aware of it, sir,” the barest of blushes, “...I mean no personal affront towards anyone.” Harry’s voice sounded respectful but not actually penitent.

The Chief Auror seemed to consider.

“...For a future in politics you will need to curb a bit that attribute of yours, as well to learn some patience... It will be a pity beyond measure for someone with your potential to go unheard merely because of those.” grave voice but it didn’t sound like a particularity severe reprimand, more like the usual everyday teaching tone.

That -and if Leonard didn’t have it wrong- once again hinted that sense of equality, stronger even, because this time around there wasn’t even the barest mention of Harry’s youth.

Still, the feeling of normality worked out, the faces slowly lost most of the tension, the spines unbend -just a tiny bit- enough of it to look normal not enforced, and the sense of impending violence slowly faded.

...That there was going to be gossip about this, Leonard had no illusions, but it was only going to focus on Harry’s ignorance of their Secret History, most probably to call him rude and irreverent of their ways, or point out his obvious half-muggle ancestry- at a worse case.

_(Although how could be blamed for his rudeness when he knew only the soft, overtly purged, version taught at Hogwarts was another matter)_

But no one would actually consider challenging him to a duel for his views or even suing him to Wizengamot -it wasn’t even going to destroy his political aspirations- Power -personal or borrowed- had that kind of effect.

...With things appearing so close to get fixed Leonard was forced to do what had been dreading, ever since Harry opened his mouth about the Statute, to evaluate how Riddle was dealing with the whole thing...

_(Somehow he knew He wasn’t going to be anywhere near accepting as before)_

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

It was worse.-

If he had thought that he had already seen Riddle stone-still -before- it had absolutely nothing to his frozen, inscrutable, countenance of the hear and now: Face utterly bland, without even the barest, tiniest, hint of tension or emotion- all buried away.

Leonard was utterly unable to read anything and that absence felt ten times more terrifying than any visible sign of rage.

_‘When all that immense control exploded Merlin helped them all!’_

But even _that_ wasn’t the most terrifying thing happening to him right this moment.

Meli, still beside Riddle, appeared to have noticed his mental preoccupation _(..how could she not?)_ and had grown concerned, looking ready to ask him about his health or -Merlin forbid- touch him.

Leonard panicked and prepared to intervene - either by making noise or dropping something - (he didn’t knew really) when Merlin took a shine of him - _well sort of._

Riddle noticed his attention.

It was apparent that Riddle’s notorious sensitivity to close scrutiny never actually wavered, bringing his distracted moment to an end. Unluckily so, for him, just his distraction, not the concealed volcanic emotions behind it, as the stony -virulent- glare He was aiming towards him was nothing that he dared to ignore.

Leonard hurried to look away... (at least for the moment)

Then the hypocritical bastard turned back to Meli, smiling and making her blush. Leonard’s fists tightened involuntarily and he held back a violent oath.

“Ahem...” The Undersecretary’s attention seeking sound wasn’t far from a croak.

Apparently so, Leonard wasn’t the only one at an utterly awkward _(..if not as miserable..)_ condition. Frankly, he had nothing compared at Mr Diggory’s beet red face.

_(..actually he didn’t want to be lint at his robes..)_

As, with Bones clearly supporting Harry and Prewett staying out the game, it was falling at the Undersecretary to be Ministry’s representative and consequently to finally close that thorny subject.   

_(..Honestly, it was his job even without them..)_

“...No one here, Mr Evans, could ever doubt your noble sentiments, or even debase Muggle humanity -of all things-” an affrontent sniff, “But you asked us to look at this problem officially so, which we are prohibited of doing, as the Statute of Secrecy forbids us any kind of interference at muggle problems. I’m sorry...” he even sounded it.

“Father...” it was so softly spoken it was barely heard and didn’t really disturb, but the disappointed tone -Sam’s- wasn’t mistaken. Mr Diggory wasn’t unaffected.

_(frankly speaking, he looked like he wished to get swallowed by earth)_

It hardly mattered, regretful or not, his interpretation of the law was final - and he apparently wasn’t brave enough to consider a riskier -even clearly justifier- case, not when the cost could be his political death.

It certainly caused a reaction.

Even if he hadn’t ever met Harry before, Leonard wouldn’t have mistaken that quiet rage -dispassionate face or not- not with such burning eyes.

“I see, Mr Undersecretary, does that mean that you’ll help the wizarding children, over the muggle ones, or ignore both?” a pin would have heard under the returned Dementor-like silence.

Mr Diggory changed a thousand colours and a hollow sound escaped his mouth. Riddle, this time, opted to interfere and allowed the smallest cough.

“Yes, Mr Riddle.” The Undersecretary was all too happy to give permission, like a drowned person grabbing a lifebelt.

Tom was of course ready and even had the perfect solemn expression - However he pretty much grabbed the Minotaur by the horns.   

“I believe it’s imperative that we’d help werewolves... Help them enough to not be in abject poverty and in doing-so curtailing the most violent packs.”

Every single person on that kiosk gaped at him. It wasn’t like they didn’t expected him to take Harry’s side, it was the utter rationale of his tone.

Still, his matter of fact coldness after Harry’s fierce passion, didn’t feel wrong on that particular crowd... On the very contrary, it seemed to actually cool everyone down, soothing their fried nerves.

Riddle continued headlong.

“I’m not speaking this merely urged by compassion, but out of need -and fear- for our safety. Werewolves’ mere existence in muggle cities, villages, even at the very mountains consists of a permanent -and mortal- peril to us, towards the Statute of Secrecy. ”

People were holding their breaths to hear him better, Leonard wasn’t ashamed to be one of them.

“This is not done out of ill intention, or carelessness, their best interests are -much like ours- to keep the Statute intact at nearly any cost. However, every single time a werewolf is caught committing a crime, or exposed as something preternatural, that danger rises....”  imposing tone.

“Every time a werewolf goes to prison and transforms there at the full moon the very roots of our society are threatened with eradication…”

“Surely not!” Mr Diggory sounded breathless with fear and even Lord Bones appeared somewhat pale.

“The danger exist.” he admitted gruffly, “...And we have paid heavily for our successes.” he sent a half proud/half guilty towards Prewett.

“But it’s manageable and we have been doing it for years.”

“Is it?” Tom questioned with a strange smile. (a terrible one) “I have no doubt that the Obliviators are doing their very best, but surely they don’t guard every single prison in the country - and just one incident can be lethal. The muggle government covers for us, yes, but I can hardly believe they will go that far to cover for another werewolf massacre, like in 1927.”

Chief Bones muttered something undoubtedly very unflattering and a tired:  
“Not again.” but continued his defence.

“There won’t be any massacres in the Muggle world.” _final,_ “Grindelwald didn’t dare it, after Hitler’s fall, and my Aurors are diligent, great at their work and on constant guard during the full moons. It won’t happen.-” then he wickedly smiled - like he just had a really nasty idea. Leonard wondered what it could be.

The Aurors cheered their boss but some of them were clearly thoughtful.  
Tom wasn’t defeated and headed for the jugular.

“I can accept that. However, do you _really_ want it to be the only option, when other more peaceful solutions can be found?” to that one he sounded earnest.

Bones lowered his head and appeared to be thinking for a little while.

“No,” he said at least and that was that.

Tom didn’t gloat, smile, -or rest on his laurels- with that victory, he just continued addressing the Aurors.

_‘It wasn’t just a single -or even a few- Wizengamot’s votes that he needed to really win this, but the present Auror Force - and the pulse-point of the whole Wizarding World they represented.’_

“...It doesn’t need to be a massacre to damage our Society, just one -single- person getting away from the Obliviators, even for a time. Such a leak won’t be enough to reveal us, of course, however - _this is not England by before the war-_ they won’t let things go and if we are not careful they will find us...”

Some of the Aurors started shouting that he was taking things way too far but Riddle didn’t seem to pay them even a bit of attention.

“Our muggle compatriots fought and won a Great War -the very same war we are currently ending - just as successfully- but it wasn’t bloodless, it wasn’t costless... They still obtain their necessities by rationing and they will continue so, maybe for years... Many lost everything, families and material possessions alike... They can hardly be the same easy trusting people they once were.” and more softly...

“We simply can no longer rest and afford breaches to our borders...”

“Muggleborns’ parents are such a breach, but an easily controllable one. A slight increasing at monitoring will suffice - most parents care for their children and they won’t dare risk damaging them as well. Wizarding werewolves are an even easier case -at large- to fix, as they may still live in the fringes of our society and/or could have family ties they are still attached to, or be supported by them... It would take but the barest effort...” a breath.

“So long as there are still such bonds we can keep maintaining the already existing equilibrium -at least for now- albeit, even with those bonds, undeniably becoming tenuous and on the fraying side.”

He paused then, letting his words to sink in.

“Above all those, it’s the muggle werewolves that are causing the actual breach, the most immediate danger we have to face.” he intoned.    

“There is absolutely nothing tying them to us, no history, no loyalty, no blood… They have every conceivable reason to loathe us and not even a single one to like us... That needs to change.”

Everyone nearly gaped at him, for the judicial way he reached his conclusion.

“There are only two ways to neutralise a threat: either by completely destroying it or by building bridges and affiliating it to your own purpose - one way or another...” another pause.

“Destroying them is impossible. There is no way to specifically target the muggle ones and -even if it was practically doable- it would simply engage the wizarding members, effectively setting against us ALL European packs, a number we can’t honestly predict -except that it far outreaches the pre-war years-” he let the lack of protest work for him.

“A conflict we can’t currently afford, even if we have the actual resources. Victory will still be far from fully assuaged.” another pause,

“...And even if it was, do we truly want to set every Werewolf’s relative against us? People may have and _will_ accept to turn their backs out of fear, or social stigma, but that begrudging compliance will reach an end if it comes to death. They will never -ever- going to accept this, not without fighting it, or true resentment.”  
one more.

“Grindelwald tried to target specific numbers and we saw the horrifying results, it will be plain madness to try imitating him...”

Riddle sounded utterly serious but Leonard barely held from bursting at hysterical laughter. - _Tom himself advising the Ministry against a Dark Lord’s methods_...

The bastard was probably mocking them all.

“...So, as you see, it can be nothing but an absolutely worthless -wasteful- effort, even with the best possible conclusion...” an earnest, grave look to take the edge off of his previous words.

“A brave, peaceful, innovative solution is to all of us -everyone’s- best interest.” Tom Riddle finished this with with opened outstretched hands and a charming smile.

People still were gaping, if only with how a mere Hogwarts’ student had managed such a cold bloodied -but also a so thoroughly efficient- analysis but, after Harry started, the applause was thunderous all the same...

It wasn’t just Harry and his crew, his mum, the people of his age and close..    The greatest part of the assembly joined to this and it wasn’t just polite.

Leonard found himself giving his all - and it wasn’t a matter of House conformity or even alliances… Riddle was a cold -cold- bastard for sure, but so were pure politics... If he could actually make this work he was all for it!

But Auror Prewett had also finally recovered.

“I don’t like all this fascination with death you Dark Wizards seem to have, all that talk about possible killings - Death should never been spoken so casually. But I can see your point and approve of this.” his hand fell heavily on Harry’s left shoulder.

“Kids are just kids, no matter what... I’m not going to continue hurting kids - even just with my inaction. They deserve far better.- ...Whatever help you’ll need of me - official or unofficial - to stop this, or even just to ease their lives, you have it.”

It wasn’t that far from a magical oath and the emphasis by his gesture intensified things. A breath later Chief Auror Bones did the same at Harry’s other shoulder.

Leonard nearly didn’t believe what he was seeing. A House -or even Multi- House- alliance was one thing a Special Purpose Alliance quite another...  
He could even bet that Harry had no idea -yet- of what exactly he had just unleashed!

Alphard nudged him softly, smiling smugly and Leonard returned it -still a bit on the shocked side- and restarted counting heads (..far -far- more that he could have ever hoped for..) -that nodded him in return- feeling equally gleeful, astonished, and yet apprehensive.

_‘It was happening, it was really going to happen!’_

He met his mother’s equally stunned -equally gleeful- stare and his smile widened to the point of near hurt. His mother nodded at him in complete understanding, relieved beyond words, even exultant to a point, but with a softer edge as well...

_(Dorea Potter had never been a werewolf admirer, or sympathiser, -far from it- but hurting, or even just neglecting, kids went well beyond her willing tolerance. She was going to have words with Harry, there was no way around it - with the scare he had given them all. But at some point, after a fierce scolding, she was going to hug him and maybe call him ‘Her lamb’ or even ‘Her Gentle soul!’ - Leonard looked perversely forward to that moment)_

Anthony Longbottom deliberately caught his eye, sending him an approving smile and a victory signal and Sept, beside him, a gravely nod. Obviously he was far from happy with the way Harry humiliated his mentor _(..and cousin..)_ but he was still with him on it. _(..Prewett’s belated support certainly didn’t hurt this - Wesleys stood with Prewetts just as Potters stood with Longbottoms, back from time immemorial..)_ However, family politics aside, Leonard still felt deeply warmed by the support of his friends. He returned happily their nods.

...Something incredible -world shaking- was now happening and House Potter was in the thick of things - _and-_ on the rise. - _What wasn’t to be excited about?_

_(Blood freezing terror and insane dangers included)_

It was like that Chinese proverb his dad had once told him -to be on the tiger’s back- but, even after that mighty scare, he honestly didn’t want to be anywhere else.

Those were dangerous waters, unquestionably so _(..and Riddle a right bastard with an_ _irritating_ _propensity to charm where he had no business charming..)_ but he had never felt more intensely hopeful or so alive _(..only protecting his family - or holding Meli in his arms - mattered more than this..)_ it was all worthwhile.

-If only they managed to save his dad too he was going to die quite happy-

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Leonard wasn’t alone in his conclusions. He could see the same knowledge -even happiness, at some cases- reflected back to him by nearly everyone surrounding him... The sheer awareness that their society was shifting -right in front their very eyes- changing towards something unknown, yet apparently far kinder than it was ever before.

Happening, just because a great number of of them chose to actually hear Harry out, not simply dismiss him out of hand - even when he came too far -accepting it even- and were now wanting that incoming change to their cores.

And yet, it wasn’t only due Harry’s burning passion, or Riddle’s rhetorical flair, that those words were actually heard and even allowed to take root... Auror Bones’ tacit but explicit support was undeniably one of the deciding factors.

‘ _...British Magicals -Aurors most of all- had an inherent -vast- respect into authority and tradition, their very culture was based on that. They wouldn’t have given Harry half that respect (..or permitted themselves to hear him out..) if Chief Auror Bones hadn’t responded to him (..or his mother hadn’t actually allowed it to stand..) as the one speaking for House Potter, their rightful Head as a matter of fact.’_

_(Harry was going to hate it, when he figured it out, but Leonard didn’t care at all. He had walked there all by himself)_

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

But, while he made all those observations, Mr Diggory was equally busy making his own as well. He was far from a stupid man - and, most probably, even more adept than him at counting heads and reading moods - It took him only a bare moment to figure out that his conservative stance was losing him the very thing he was trying to preserve and even less so, afterwards, to sought out a way to join in -if not lead- at the new political wave too.

...and, of course, he found it - at what else -once again- but Tom!  
His very lifebelt!

“...Mr Riddle... You said that you have some very specific ideas, for that problem, -maybe others- care to share?” he asked very matter of factly and without even a hint of the undoubtful awkwardness he must certainly feel for such blatant shift.

Again Riddle played it perfectly.

“I do, sir.” The tiniest of pauses.

If he was coolly logical while stating pure facts - as he saw them - he now allowed just the barest hint of bashfulness, for his own personal opinions, to avoid looking insufferably arrogant. _(Not that he wasn’t,_ Leonard didn’t have any such delusions, _but everything in the end was a matter of perception)_

“The way I see it,” Riddle continued. “We have two very distinct but -only at a first glance- utterly separate problems to our hands. Firstly: a wide group of potentially violent and uniquely powerful -albeit untrained to the most part- magicals, utterly distrusting of the Ministry, - justified to it or not - and consequently extremely hard and disinclined to any historical attempt to voluntarily register, or accept any kind of restraint, and secondly a problem that may haven yet registered so: The very fact that a good portion of our living provisions, maybe even as far as seventy percent, comes exclusively from the muggle world.”

He very smartly then fell silent, letting his audience to make their own minds.

The whispering became feverish, but it was Sir Neville, Meli’s father, (..called uncle, in private, since he was a mere toddler - but not after the engagement, as it felt way incestuous..) that very kindly -but not any surprisingly- volunteered to question him.

(Wizengamot member aside -of a different political party than Lord Bones and the rest- he was also one of the very rare few for whom his House’s business specialisation included living provisions and not merely the traditional potion ingredients)

“Do you really consider it such a grave problem, Mr Riddle? The war, or at least the muggle part, has been over for some months, already, and while it wasn’t easy we held acceptably for the most part.”

Tom regarded him back calmly.

“Your very choice of word, sir, shows the existence and even severity of the whole situation. Acceptable, not excellent, barely meeting expectations.” a small pause.

“...I will never claim it came even close to difficulty, as in the muggle world, but the mere fact we had to rely on multiplying charms -and all consequences coming with that- makes a very convincing case, don’t you think?”

There was some kind of emotion, at Tom’s voice, Leonard wasn’t actually sure of what exactly, not even if it was real or faked, but it still left a knot to his throat. He doubted he was the only one feeling so.

“And how exactly do you know that?” Another voice from the back (not the hateful one from before) interfered to question Riddle.

_(Apparently there were people with far harder stomachs)_

Tom didn’t seem to taking this bad (although, to Leonard’s knowledge, that sort of disrespect never sat well with him - or even not repaid without severe pain) on the contrary a faint but mischievous smile seemed to play on his lips.

“I’ve took notice of this occurrence during my spare visits at Hogwarts’ kitchens.” the impish expression and the charmingly boyish admittance turning the promising future politician at a rapscallion.

Smiles broke, expressions’ warmed - and just like that Tom had won them over.   

- _For who, of everyone’s present, wasn’t an alumnus - or current Hogwarts’ student - and who of them hadn’t raided at the abovementioned kitchens, at least once, in his/her school career?_

But then reality hit -at all of them- For Hogwarts’- _huge-_ estate, meant to feed both the castle’s inhabitants -as well Hogsmeade- to need rely on such methods, it was testament to how vitally necessary it was on all other - _less fortunate-_ situations. It wasn’t a problem to be dismissed one case at a time.

Sir Neville looked far more serious, when he now addressed Tom, obviously more sympathetic as well. _(Oh,Tom must surely hate it!)_

“Son, the war is over, any such problems will get dealt with. No one, of our people, will be at such risk, not now.” _‘His uncle was always one to offer support - even at one he had every actual reason to dislike._ ’

Riddle’s look was neither pitying, nor smug, not even affronted, and yet managed to convey that such attempts of placating things were utter nonsense.

_(and he did it appearing all respectful to top things)_

“With all due respect, sir, the war may be over but the rationing is not - and there is not even a hint of a possible end date for it - yet. So the problems to that regard remain and may even worsen - as our suppliers won’t have the war to keep them distracted to any irregularities and even obliviation, as a solution, can only led us only that far.”

Sir Neville was indeed a benign man, accepting this with grace.  
“You have a point, young man, please continue.”

_(...and not even a hint of the bitter snark, regarding Tom’s muggle roots and adept knowledge, that would have been so scathingly delivered by his wife...)_

Tom offered back a respectful nod.

“...Now considering forward, at the future, there may be indeed a break at global scale warfare, there may be a couple years, a decade, or three -like before- even a century, or -if we are truly lucky- the wraith of such destruction will never fall on us again.” a pause.

_\- at which Leonard and -as he firmly believed- a great deal of those present fervently wished for the last one -or close as possible- to be the case)_

“...But do we honestly want to base our economy on the muggle world’s whims?” Tom questioned and it wasn’t rhetorical. He was urging everyone here to think on this - think really hard about it.

“Wars and politics come and go, sometimes affecting us sometimes not, but if we manage -and we can- to get even a portion of independence, regarding this, then we’ll be safe as possible and any kind of effect will be only at our own choice.”

His voice wasn’t logically cool nor detached, like in the previous case, it was full of palpable emotion and warmth.

“...Isn’t that worth any possible effort?”

 _‘This mattered to Riddle, mattered a lot._ ’

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

There was a roar of support from Harry and the rest of their friends and surprising so a very good percentage of the Aurors, _‘or maybe not that surprisingly...’_

His passion and conviction -his sheer charisma- seemed to impress a lot of people - the Wizengamot members most of all - but they, as fully experienced politicians, needed more concrete things than those.

“You have a certain point, Mr Riddle,” Sir Neville’s voice was now full of respect, “but how actually would you go for this?” he all but leant forward in his anticipation to Tom’s answer.

“Ideals are beautiful things and yours are the exact kind I’ll be very happy to stand behind, but you speak of economy and - _that-_ needs a great deal more than mere dreams.” _‘Trust the Undersecretary to directly ask about the money!’_

“...And which part of your plan revolves _specifically_ around werewolves and how so?” Prewett’s smile was disturbingly _(to himself too if he had knew)_ wolf-like in its wideness and intensity.

Chief Auror Bones didn’t have anything more to add, but his own predatory smile left no doubt that he backed the other three’s every word.

Every other man Leonard knew (with Harry as the most probable exception) would have grown apprehensive or even wary at such combined attention, but not Riddle. Riddle’s smile just became more bright and dangerous, if that was possible.

“With the long-traditional way of agriculture and stock-raising.” that was said in the simplest, most dryly-evident, tone Leonard had ever heard in his life.

It was again nothing he would have expected from Riddle. _(The bloke never failed to have top marks at Care - or Herbology - but also never once forgotten to hurriedly wash his hands afterwards)_ and it made at least few of the Aurors (and even Tom’s followers to a lesser extend) blink with surprise.

“Agriculture you say, Mr Riddle?” Mr Diggory’s voice sounded so squeaky, his face so richly flabbergasted, that Leonard would have laughed at the comical result - if he hadn’t been taught better.

“Indeed, Mr Undersecretary.” Tom’s tone held the barest touch of irony, probably the furthest he would have allowed himself against a politician in a public place. The Undersecretary (maybe the others too) didn’t seem to notice it, that or they permitted it to pass.

“But there is hardly a fraction of Wizarding households, even at the mixed villages, that seriously deals with such things and then only for private consumption or just a closed village-wide market at best case. It will be a huge undertaking to set!” The Undersecretary sounded frazzled.

“Exactly my point, sir...”

This time Tom didn’t need sarcasm or even a counter-attack, the opposition all by itself had offered up all pertinent info in their tragedy, wrapped up with the excuse of reality, gloriously validating him. The merchant’s son in Leonard found this both amusing and vastly hopeful for the future.

“...We need first and foremost to support those households, giving them the option to expand and once that happens and the Wizarding population grows accustomed for such products the Ministry can get a deeper cut and a more involved role.”

Riddle’s next words though made the Wizengamot members and even some Aurors look at each other in near incomprehension and with traces of worry.

Prewett especially, was once again one of the more agitated ones, taking the time to intentionally meet Sept’s eyes and shake his head, hinting -not particularly subtly- to not get his hopes up for such a plan.

That one act focusing the others’ attention all to him and so forcing him to take point.

“This is a great, well thought, plan, Mr Riddle. Never let even a single person imply otherwise.” Prewett coughed, trying to offer this as a consolatory note. “Regrettably so, such a plan would have worked only at the muggle world, not ours.”

Official tone, together with one more proffered head-shake, projecting sadness.

Unfortunately, for poor Ignatius, Tom wasn’t someone to get intimidated by that, or reconsider, nor a person to get placated (..not as easily so at least..) and definitely not so, after such abrupt dismissal.

Leonard could already sense the first signs of that incoming storm (..he only hoped that Tom was a bit better at masking it than Harry..)

“Thank you, Mr Prewett.” a polite nod. “...Would you mind illustrating the failing flaws?” Riddle’s voice was velvety soft and did not betray even the barest trace of anger or displeasure.

Still, flawless formality, even graciousness, couldn’t hide the absolute confidence behind the words (arrogance one may say, if Tom hadn’t artfully smoothed that very edge) It was certainly not how one meant to be addressing one’s superior. Prewett noticed and Leonard saw him turn bluish-red with rage.

“Why you...”

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

 {He wasn’t a bad man, Ignatius Prewett, far from it, Leonard knew (even respected to a point) but he was most certainly quick-tempered and deeply passionate for the things he felt about. (..the way Harry had gotten under his skin showed it enough..)

He may not be of his exact generation _(more_ _accurately_ _of_ _Fergus McGonagall’s)_ to get to know him at Hogwarts, even a little. Still, he had come enough times to his house, either socially or for business, to have quite a fair idea…  
He wasn’t someone that generally looked down at others, albeit his _very_ recent Wizengamot position and the - _appropriate -_ kind of respect -due to that- were -most definitely- one of those things he was truly sensitive about.

_(How could it be otherwise when he spent those two years, since his father’s sudden death, either at the line of duty or neck deep at Wizengamot’s proceedings, making sure that his family enjoyed the same political clout and respect as before not only due to their name, or out of respect at his father’s memory, but through his own hard work and efforts)_

So, to have a half-blood _(not even an Auror, a volunteer)_ challenge his authority like that was definitely not something he would willingly take, much less gracefully accept. He had tolerated it from Harry (out of respect to his own superior and to House Potter) but the personal admittance, that Harry had bested him -truly so- had undoubtedly shocked and hurt him as much as the foul realisation that he had been an unwilling - _ignorant-_ accomplice at hurting children - werewolves or not.

There was no way he would just take it from Tom, merely on magical merit and with no powerful House behind him, _(mere rumours to a connection at a fallen House didn’t count much -alone- as political capital)_ it would mean that he acknowledged other authority - _higher_ \- than Wizengamot’s, that his own authority was for nothing.}

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Leonard was terrified about that as there was no way something good may come about it. Prewett was headed for a full out insult and that would lead straight to a duel _(..where he would end up hurt but mostly alive..)_ or to deny even _-that-_ acknowledgement and then to be found dead at a random place and time.

He didn’t have much _-if any-_ stock - or hope, at Tom’s tolerance and forgiveness.

But Ignatius Prewett hadn’t spent those two years at Wizengamot for nothing and seemed to sense there was a hidden trap even mid-rant.   

He stopped before any unfortunate word was uttered.

Tom was certainly waiting for it. Full of predatory patience and deadly anticipation for just a single lapse, he was poised to fall on him and verbally tear him apart.

Still, Leonard wasn’t the only one that could see what was coming... Prewett was so obviously frozen _(undoubtedly steeling himself for a new humiliation)_ that someone had to do something about it. Sir Neville choose to be that someone.

“I had better answer your questions by myself, Mr Riddle... Its my area of expertise after all.” a kind smile, but still hinting of a shark.

_(Leonard was surprised he had it in him)_

“Please do, sir.” Riddle’s smile was definitely a predatory one as he fixed Meli’s father with his full attention. Sir Neville coughed once, then continued speaking.

“...Our world would have most certainly benefited from the results of a project like yours, Mr Riddle. Unfortunately, the very configuration of our society forbids such ventures.” a very loaded pause.

“As my estimable colleague -so recently- mentioned the vast majority of Wizarding farmland is either located on the great pureblood estates, or at the mixed villages... The first cases -quite naturally enclosed into stone walls and vastly protected from the muggle eye, with intricate, impenetrable wards- are carefully set for completely Wizarding practises: Cultivating potion ingredients, both flora and fauna, rearing and training of magical animals - Abraxan horses for example - even smelting. In short, anything and everything truly necessary for business and exclusively unique to us wizards.”

A small pause for water and to regain his breath, all while pretending to ignore the building tension.

“While at the mixed villages -where it’s all but impossible to conceal magic, at a large scale- have the small things. Like the raising of owls, crups, and kneazles, together with some small scale agriculture, since anything larger will either have to be fully done the muggle way or expose us, as well as the practice of magical professions and arts - all strictly indoors, of course.” The last was said with a smile, most probably as an attempt to light things, but it felt flat.

The tension -and magic- suffusing the air were so thick that it made even breathing unbearable, like filling your lungs with dragon smoke.

That aura of hostility made the Aurors take notice _(instead of half dozing with the boring turning of the talk)_ but, as said aggression didn’t became action, they simply left things as they were. The politicians just exchanged wary glances.

“And there was nothing done to amend -or at least ease- that misery?” Riddle’s tone was soft and genuinely inquiring but there was no mistaking the underlying rage.

It wasn’t only Riddle that appeared livid _(..Leonard had never seen him so honestly open about it..)_ Harry _-and Granger-_ looked just as murderous and equally ready to start cursing people - or worse.

(As for Leonard himself, he already knew those things, it wasn’t any kind of surprise -nor something he was proud of as Wizard- _(..most of the time he was just resigned..)_ and he was truthfully plainly disgusted now with their culture’s deep flaws so starkly pointed out within such a fresh and honest outlook)

Sir Neville had the touchiness to turn red -from anger and shame both- but showed patience, as Leonard had known to expect from him, and replied calmly, even trying to explain.

“I wish there was, Mr Riddle, I truly do, but those things were set so for very specific reasons, our safety and the Statute of Secrecy the first and foremost among them.”

Riddle tilted his head, Harry and Hermione leant forward to hear better.    

“The Statute of Secrecy you say, sir?” Leonard had no idea how Riddle managed to be both utterly respectful and mocking at once.

The red wasn’t easing from Sir Neville’s face, if anything it was becoming far more prominent, his voice gaining an edge.

“Yes, the Statute. ...This is not a silly rule intended to ensure pure blood prosperity no matter the cost. It’s life and death.” he sounded passionate, Leonard didn’t know he could be, except in matters of healing and medicine.

“Wards, no matter their kind, -or strength- cannot work in an open field, much less successfully hide magical growth or its effects...Sooner or later they break. Even ‘Notice Me Not,’ our best and most lasting defence, can become utterly ineffective to muggles, given sufficient time and close proximity, as well cause them various health damages, Neurological and Ophthalmological ones chiefly, due to the light distortion.”

Then, Sir Neville, realised the direction he had taken and coughed, embarrassed.

Riddle and Harry exchanged a meaningful glance, but both -very politely- chose to not interfere, as yet. Hermione appeared deeply thoughtful, but not fully convinced either.

Sir Neville acknowledged the courtesy, with a nod, and continued.

“All those factors combined make a peaceful cohabitation - at such terms - virtually impossible and so is our policy to keep things simple. Even if we were willing to risk it there is also the equally serious problem of Effusion...” he stopped for a moment to make sure everyone understood this.

Tom most certainly did (looking momentarily impatient) but a couple junior Aurors looked confused. So Sir Neville explained it as well.

“Magic flows and spreads around in nature, such feeble barriers as wooden fences can do absolutely nothing to stamp the flow. Only stone mixed with cold iron works and that one barely. Our only given option is to lie low and cast as little as possible, outdoors at least.” Even he couldn’t keep a hint of shame with his admittance.

That got a reaction out of Riddle. _(Merlin it did!)_ His head snapped up, like a snake, and he stabbed Sir Neville with such an icy, disdainful glare that Leonard felt shivers down his _own_ back _(..definitely didn’t want to think what Sir Neville felt..)_ _That_ magical effusion was frankly scary.

“Lie Low?” It sounded close to a hiss. “So, you suggest, that we - magicals - should live like startled rabbits in our burrows...” (Sept glared daggers at this) “...denied of our birthright, except maybe during some special cases?” mordant humour.

Still, for all the nearly flawless and composed tone, no one could have missed that - _this-_ was Riddle’s sensitive point.

Sir Neville now looked angered for good, still, he managed to stay composed.

“I didn’t meant it like that, I merely urged for caution. But you, young man,” a glare, “Your words reminded me of another’s. Gellert’s Grindelwald!”

The frantic whispering started all anew at such a _huge_ accusation. Riddle didn’t bat an eye.

“I’m not a Grindelwaldian.” he said softly. “Living openly, under the sun, as Wizards -without fear- I won’t deny that this ideal holds a strong attraction to me, but it can’t be done.” Tom openly acknowledged. (betraying just a tiny wisp of disappointment)

“We are barely a million people among the fifty million muggles - and that’s only within the British islands... I want what we can have, instead. Living hidden -yes- but also living in the best way we can - and I believe we can have this.”

Tom’s voice was soft, melodic, beguiling you to dream, but also confident, instilling in you the sense that the dream could become something real... Leonard shook his head, to dispel the effect, impressed and irritated as hell. - He had no idea how the bastard did this!

_‘Did he direct his magic at his vocal cords?’_

Naturally, Harry and the rest (Alphard most certainly included) as well a good deal of the Aurors choose that moment to offer their support, but Harry’s applaud wasn’t that of a follower, much less a neophyte, but that of an ally... There was dignity and confidence in his stance, not just conviction. Surety, as well a dash of pride.

He had his eyes set on the Longbottom patriarch, his expression unmistakable.  
_‘‘I stand with him!’’_

(Leonard hoped -and prayed- with everything he had, that this wasn’t going to cost them Longbottom’s alliance)

That House -family- was so interwoven with theirs, either in their deepest recondite past or here and now, that it would be an irreparable loss to them, no matter where they may end up - politically standing - that, and to personally cost him Meli.

_(Still, unless something miraculous happened, he was going to lose her anyway)_

Sir Neville looked at Riddle, almost shocked...

“Do you really have any idea at the risk you are proposing here? - If the Statute fails we’ll all be in immediate danger, one even worse than by the time it was enacted... Far more intense than any of the dangers you highlighted so far...” ...and he took once again an almost fatherly tone.

Riddle’s face remained unreadable but he regarded Sir Neville for a long moment, long enough to make him start looking uncomfortable by his intensity.

“I do, sir, believe me I do.” _‘Better than you.’_ Was actually heard though not voiced. Sir Neville stared but choose to not challenge him about it. Riddle continued.

“...and I wouldn’t dream to risk the Statute and our safety. But... there are so many things that can be done inside its confines, so many...” again with the beguiling tone,

“Why, for example, there wasn’t more effort to invent new spells - if ‘Notice Me Not’ fell short on long term expectations? ...Why wasn’t anything done about this, when the charm had been invented more than a century ago?” his stare didn’t spear only Sir Neville, it moved around the circle, making Politicians and Aurors squirm.

After a couple moments his expression softened, allowing his audience to ease.

“But I’m well aware that, even if serious effort was given to that direction, there are still going to be time, maybe years, before we are safe and confident at anything new. So, until then, I humbly request you to show some more patience. To hear - and even consider - the second phase of my proposal.” Riddle fetchingly lowered his eyes.

Still, for all the beautifully crafted speech, there was hardly anything humble, either at his stance or actual words.

The Wizengamot members looked wearily at one another, not one of them wanting that weight. A moment or so later Chief Auror Bones assumed the responsibility.

“Proceed.” It was definitely on the guarded side.

“Thank you Sir, Sirs.” Riddle offered a formal half bow.

“As it was established here, our economy -our people- need our own production to gain more safety, as well the excessively delayed opportunity to -finally- grow as people... It was equally acknowledged that the mixed villages are currently deeply unsuitable to fulfill that need.” he neatly summarised things to his favour.

“So, it’s my proposal that the Ministry would rent -or better yet, buy- remote plots of land, following the centuries’ old pureblood trusted pattern, secure them and set to exploit them, by either renting them for people to farm whatever they choose, or by hiring workers to plant by Ministry wishes. Either - or both - methods will bring a substantial profit.” Riddle’s confidence was once again blazing.

“It is an interesting proposal, I’ll grant you that,” Chief Auror Bones voiced, with his chin resting on his hand, after a brief consideration.

“Unfortunately, like all investments, it will need capital. A capital that will be difficult to spare, either now -with the war- or immediately after. Maybe in a year or so we’ll talk once again about this, maybe officially.”

For a decline (that like all ministerial ones had the tendency to be utterly forgotten) this was rather promising and generous. Riddle responded with the equanimity and persistence that was needed.

“Thank you, sir. But I believe there was a misunderstanding...” a smile.

“For the capital in need could be half as much as one may initially assume. We don’t need an already arable land, any kind of land will do, even destroyed. It will cost but a few scant months of dedicated spellwork and by then it will be as productive as the best estate in the country, better even. Nor do we truly need start with an immense venture. A small farm, one maybe offering fresh fruit, all year round, will intrigue and whet the appetites, enough so, to get popular support and quite a few offers...”

Leonard wanted to rub his eyes. Unbelievable as it seemed Tom must had personal interest at this, it seemed too detailed otherwise. Chief Bones seemed to be of the same mind.

“So, you intend to try your hand at farming, Mr Riddle?” it sounded near friendly.

“Me, sir?” Tom offered the same winsome -charming- smile that had won everyone over, at least once, before.

“Definitely not.- Any agricultural knowledge I may have is strictly theoretical and at that purely on the economic side. I don’t think I could offer much help - other than that. I’m not going to get involved except in proposing it.”    

\- And just like that Riddle had passed another test.

“Is that so?” ‘ _...At Chief Auror Bones’ eyes at the very least.’_ _  
_ “Please, go on, then.”

Riddle smiled.

Leonard wasn’t particularly surprised. To someone like Sept (..and his more hands on experience..) he bet it looked like insufferable arrogance _(as it was)_ but to the majority of the Aurors -especially nobleborns and the Wizengamot members- it most likely appeared as having no personal wish for those particular funds, consequently clearing him from any knavery suspicion.

Still, the fact that it wasn’t a monetary gain didn’t mean there wasn’t something...

‘... _If only he could put his finger on what it was_...’

“...The trick to this,” Riddle was now saying, “...for a long ranging and very profitable success, is to have actual -paid- workers, not House Elves. ...Ones that will see the undertaking enterprise -and consequently the Ministry- as salvation to their poverty or -better yet- an honest opportunity for prosperity to their futures.” Pretty, alluring, promises, tailored to convince _this_ audience.

_\- plain political bait Leonard called it._

“...Your best bet to this will be muggleborns and unconnected halfbloods. However everything depends on your actual aims, in the end.” yet deceptively indifferent and easy tone.

Granger gazed at Riddle with surprise and utter adoration - a look quite natural for one’s fiancée - (but a very strange one, considering the circumstances and that she kept glancing at Harry - in the exact same way)

...Leonard didn’t doubt that it was noticed, or that many were going to reach at the same erring conclusion that he did, a week ago, - maybe even gossip about it - but also wondered if Riddle counted at the exact same thing, to cover their tracks.

Still, Hermione -and Harry- were the only ones looking so visibly pleased with Tom’s words. The politicians had a mixed look of surprise and confusion - it wasn’t what they expected of him... _(Truthfully neither did Leonard)_

It was the Undersecretary that voiced those disquieted feelings.

“Muggleborns and Half-bloods? Aren’t you a bit discriminating, or at least partial?”

For the fraction of a second the look of complete surprise, on Riddle’s face, was just plain priceless!

“Hardly, sir.” Icy tone, that was instantly eased with a charming smile. “Or maybe a little but the spirit of my point remains uncontested.” steepled hands.

“Purebloods, with micro-farming experience and actual need - or even appreciation - of such a career choice are going to be excellent additions to such a plan. Noble Houses, that will take it contract-like and settle everything - at minimal cost - with a squad of House Elves, not so much...”

They glared lethal daggers at him. Tom didn’t seem to notice.

“...The very point of this project is to bring something new and actually lasting to our society. A totally pureblood approach will undoubtedly bring fresh money and most certainly draw attention, but hardly anything else. If the profit margin is not satisfactory they won’t fight to keep it but seek out other -better- ventures and that will be the end to it.” Dry voice.

“I’m not saying that a House that wants to invest should be turned away, but it must be done under specific rules - meaning no unpaid labour or particular exclusions.” No compromise for all the appearance of it.

Granger appeared ready to tackle him but Tom didn’t pay her any attention, regarding the politicians with a challenging smile.

“Will it be worth it, such an effort, merely as an experiment?” Open arms and a really radiant expression

Harry roared his approval once more and Leonard’s hands started aching from his intense clapping _(once more he was far from alone)_ but this time he thought he had it!

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

 _‘Structures! Tom wanted to build more Wizarding structures._ _  
_ _Independent ones from the muggles!’_

He wanted to reorganise the Ministry (or at least start the process) for it to become a cohesive government body and a true government (..not merely just a construct, purely there to maintain the Statute..) and the British Wizarding World a true State.

_(Talk about ambition!)_

However total independence was both very difficult to make happen and was going to take an immensely long time _-maybe decades-_ even at best effort.

But was it truly the end goal by itself, or there were more, hidden ones?

_‘Was it possible that Tom was preparing the circumstances for a future war?’_

After a moment’s thought Leonard dismissed it.

Harry would have never been anywhere close to alright with such a plan, much less so openly supportive, neither Granger. The only other answer was just plain Segregation.

(..and he had it on good authority that Tom spoke openly about this to his followers..)

Leonard wasn’t utterly sure about this: He liked certain parts of the muggle world (especially cinemas) and he was going to miss them, but considering the other bad possibilities he could name, he could live with it (at least for a time) and he certainly approved any kind of improvement of the average Wizard’s life, so he could deal.

_‘Total Segregation it was!’_

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

“But you never elaborated regarding the werewolves.” Auror Prewett was obviously impressed but just as clearly trying not to show it.

Tom’s expression was close to indulgent.

 _“_ Indeed I didn’t, Auror Prewett, but please, pray tell me, would you consider another social group that would have benefited more with such a program, or the Ministry gaining less costly that long sought out control?”

Prewett opened his mouth then closed it, without making a sound.

The other Wizengamot members and even a good deal of the Aurors started looking at each other and eventually grinning.

_‘This was indeed a leverage, that would have worked on the Werewolves -enough to willingly register- when nothing else would.’_

Granger, on the contrary, appeared really disgruntled by their pleasure and looked ready to vehemently protest, but a pointed head shake from Harry stopped her in her tracks. Leonard believed that he understood her problem.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

This could indeed be a big thing for werewolves -or any other persecuted magical minority- if not the actual granting of -equal- rights, it was a back-door leading straight up to them, given enough time - But, only if things were handled right.

If they were handled wrong -meaning the most fanatical purebloods having control- allowing the werewolves a piece of bread, but hardly any independence or dignity.

...If they attempted -or worse so, managed- to tie them to the lands -like a new case of villeins- then Merlin only knew the destructive consequences they were going to face...

Still, for all such horrifying possibilities that raised his hair, it was far easier for things to turn out good with a controlled attempt than allowing the continuous stagnation.

It just needed rules -enforced ones- and a careful eye.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

  _“_ Good points, Mr Riddle!” Chief Auror Bones finally said, at least, “I would like you to elaborate some more, over dinner, if you are amenable to it.”

Triumph! Complete triumph! Leonard nearly didn’t believe this.

Again, Riddle knew enough to not show any elation, playing once more the modest, reserved card.   

“I’ll be happy to.” a small smile.

The whole kiosk seemed to heave a joined relieved sigh - finally the tension was over!

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

 Unfortunately, someone had a different idea.

“My Lord, Lords, if I may?” Auror Barty Crouch had chosen that moment to interfere.

His tone was humble and extremely formal, seemingly as an apology for his daring, but Leonard suspected it was done to show off and accentuate his better breeding to Tom’s _(pure wizarding)_ than any kind of politeness.

He sure as hell didn’t like it nor trusted it.

He wasn’t alone.

“Speak your mind, Barty.” Even Auror Bones wasn’t too pleased, sounding slightly irritated by his assistant’s interruption.

“Sir, Mr Riddle’s plan sounds relatively promising, but extremely risky. To give werewolves the same opportunities, even with muggleborns, will give them very unbecoming ideas, ones that will be very unwise of us to allow take root... Later on, after the program becomes established - if it becomes so - we can consider ways they can be allowed to contribute, according to their station.” ...that was said in the most pleasant - but dry - voice, possible.

“...Did he?” Leonard asked Alphard, hardly believing his ears.

“He did.” Alphard sounded equally stunned that their stuffiest cousin _(..yes, he was one of many..)_ dared to expose such _fervent_ anti-werewolf _(..and so very obviously counter-stream..)_ views in public ( _..even if they were at least partially accepted by a certain number of those present..)._ More so, to challenge _his Boss_ about them?!

Leonard didn’t get it either.

They were hardly the only ones shocked, with such a huge branch, or even enraged with his sheer callousness. _(Granger looked_ _like she itched to punch him,_ _thankfully Minerva was keeping a very strong hold to her - that and having silenced her)_ Harry’s reaction was nowhere near that violent, but only someone not knowing him -at all- was going to doubt Barty’s place in his shit list - _a very high and permanent position._

“I will consider on your views, Mr Crouch.” For all his politeness, even Chief Auror Bones sounded deeply annoyed.    

“Mr Riddle, our appointment stands.” still annoyed voice but far less pissy.

Riddle tilted his head in acknowledgement.

Actually, of all around the circle, Riddle appeared the least pissed of nearly everyone, he just looked at him in a patient, contemplative way that, frankly speaking, raised the hairs on Leonard’s arms.

...It may have been Harry that nearly killed him, in his enraged fit, but he hadn’t forgotten Riddle’s dispassionate appraisal and rough handling. He really truly believed that Riddle would have killed him - if he had intentionally attacked Harry.

But that acknowledgement -and everything accompanying it- was putting him in a certain awkward place. _‘His honour and duty demanded it.’_

“Do you think..?” he very quietly asked Alphard, indicating only with his eyes.

His dearest male cousin smiled crookedly, preparing to turn it into a crude joke, but in the end just sighing. Choosing to give him the truth, potentially unpalatable as it was.

“It’s possible.” cautiousness, but telling more than enough.

“Thank you!” his own gratitude - for such familiar loyalty - wasn’t to be mistaken.

A moment’s pause.

“Just don’t do anything stupid.” Rough voice for all the low cadence.

“Don’t worry I won’t.” Promise.

Leonard deeply appreciated that raw honesty and concern, but the fact remained that he needed talk to Harry, that wasn’t stupid.

He may not like Barty much -more accurately utterly despise him- and wouldn’t have allowed him access to his home if not for his Auror insignia, but he was human - and more so family, however remote... _‘That much he owed him.’_

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

But Riddle wasn’t the only one acting all creepy here... Barty himself wasn’t much better. That quiet air of purpose met, of contentment, was seriously disturbing.

Leonard couldn’t for the life of his understand this.

Barty had been Head Boy when they started school and even if -somehow- Riddle didn’t manage to make any kind of lasting impression then... _(..way unlikely..)_ he was more than made up now. No one with brains would consider to overlook him.

...If his Crouch cousin could be considered a powerhouse Riddle was undoubtedly five times that. It was utter stupidity to challenge him so, even if Riddle chose to go by the full letter of the law about it. Why would he risk his skin, like that?

But Barty was anything but stupid.

Pompous and arrogant in extreme he may be, not to mention a stickler for the rules and laws -written ones and not- (Notably those that pandered to his belief that he was better than anyone else and shoving said superiority down other people’s throats - if he judged that he could get away with it) but never ever one to tread beyond a certain point. Always but always submitting towards a perceived superior.

...So why would he intentionally piss -by exposing- his superiors (indirect and direct ones) like that..?

More to the point, while a snobbish prick, Barty worked to further only Barty - no one else. Not family, not political party, not any other agenda but his own - he had proved that once before.

He may be that much of an extremist _(...Leonard wasn’t a hundred percent about it - how many with such views would have bothered to learn Mermish?)_ -and deeply elitist- but he certainly wasn’t one to carry a banner for it, much less expose his neck without any apparent gain...

Leonard couldn’t see even a hint of it. The entire assembly had been frozen and the Wizengamot members seething with contempt _(not in small part for failing to keep up appearances),_ even his own Boss hardly hiding his disgust. Only a scant number of the Aurors had looked to him in anything even slightly approaching approval... So what possible reason did he have to be so pleased about it?

_-The only thing Barty had gained for sure was to set himself as the Opposition._

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

The very moment that thought crossed his mind Leonard nearly doubled over and a muffled laugh escaped his mouth.

“Merlin!”

“Shh...” Alphard admonished him quietly, “You don’t want to draw extra attention.”

“Did you see?” Leonard had instantly managed to control his hilarity, but his body was still a bit shaken by his suppressed laughter.

“I did,” Alphard’s voice was this side of dry. “..Our dear cousin seems to have great aspirations, for himself, way too grand...” his contempt wasn’t to be mistaken.

Leonard couldn’t help a snort, at that dry assurance, even if he couldn’t really argue the point. Such supreme confidence -touching to arrogance- was in direct contrast to all his beliefs regarding conduct.

“Are you sure about this?” he couldn’t help but challenge.

Alphard regarded him sharply, all that humorous confidence -and arrogance- giving room to something so much darker.

“Aren’t you?” he threw the gauntlet right back.

Leonard just looked at him, without a word, and Alphard -in the end- just smiled.

“Gryffindor!” he shook his head, but it wasn’t dismissing.

Leonard started to relax.

Alphard’s smile widened, becoming mighty teasing. After a moment he spoke again - at a much lower and airy tone.

“Calm down, cousin, nothing is going to happen. It was a political move not a curse to their backs… My personal opinion of our stuffiest cousin aside, it's not a bad one, tactically speaking, and much better for us than a covert attack.”

He was still far from utterly comfortable but, deep down, Leonard couldn’t help but agree with him. - _Especially at the thought of an attack._

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

  _{-Merlin only knew what kind of hidden enemies Tom and Harry had drawn to them this day! Both had caused something very alike to a political earthquake, one that was going to shake everything. (..even if the gathering politicians had collectively decided to bury it..) The existing powers were most certainly not going to roll over and take it._

 _A political opposition was going to be just the polite answer to this,_ _what Leonard truly feared about was the other kind and attempted ‘Reductos’ to their backs. Which was a deeply worrying thought by itself, but as Tom and Harry could -most certainly- take care of themselves, the actually petrifying part was their own reply after such an occurrence-}_

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Still, his very own agreement rattled him. As so far as a year ago, he wouldn’t even have had that discussion - and not only because he wasn’t on speaking terms with Alphard - or that he couldn’t stomach it seeing it only as arrogance. Things were so very different then...

Riddle’s power wasn’t to be denied, compared to their schoolmates, but he had been largely untested - and Barty had everything... Already a very promising Auror, known for his _very_ unusual talents _(his linguistic accomplishments acknowledged far and wide)_ added with an uncontested noble lineage to boot, a swift rising on the ranks and a political career later on were just certain.

Things would have been predictable, in such a case, Barty abhorred challenging the Status Quo, if he could help it.

_‘But that was then...’_

Today, Barty was just a foot soldier while Riddle -and Harry- were their best hope to deal with Grindelwald. _(..having already won over him once..)_ Not only that, but they had shown a political insight no one expected of schoolboys, even graduating ones, to have... His cousin was already outclassed. No matter what he may do, how successful an Auror he may become, he was never going to outshine them.

Leonard hated to admit it, but Alphard had a point. Acting in this _-so immoral-_ way was indeed Barty’s best bet to get noticed -on a wide scale- and gain public following - in order _to have a shot at someday reaching his ambitions._ He just didn’t get how someone could end up supporting the very opposite of his beliefs _(..or at least what he had -so far- shown as his beliefs..)_ Even if that one was Barty. Compromising was one thing...

_‘But then again hadn’t Riddle done the exact same thing?’_

Leonard didn’t trust him -not yet- he had been behind too many unpleasant things to utterly erase them from his memory, but the previous year had seen many of those things getting fixed, or at least ameliorated...    

_(or for fixing things that weren’t even his fault in the first place)_

And that speech of his had been plainly riveting! He could see himself grow to trust him, if he followed through, or pushed for things to get implemented.   

But, in the end of things, trusting Riddle or not was a secondary matter. He trusted Harry and that was that.-

It wasn’t just everything he had done -and intended to do- for his family, that inspired such loyalty -Harry wasn’t only about family, though he clearly valued it a great deal- It was all the things he had seen him do, beforehand, every word he had ever said and the unbroken correlation between the two that made him trust in his integrity. It was something he could actually count on.

Today’s events hadn’t refuted that trust, if anything they just made it grow stronger.

_(They’d also given him the answer to a maddening puzzle, that had been bothering him for quite a while)_

Leonard had never truly understood why the whole company kept teasing Harry of having Gryffindor tendencies, sometimes calling him Gryffindor outright...  
It hadn’t made much sense. Harry was brave, maybe insanely so, but no one -non Slytherin- would have been so into the constant bargaining or the endless political mind games he played with Riddle, much less enjoy them so... _(..Sometimes he believed it was a form of foreplay to them..)_

It was only today that he had seen clearly.

Harry had a fiery temper, _(that much for sure)_ but one that exploded only under the most intense pressure and even his suicidal bravery and self-sacrifice made sense under his severe illness’ prism _(..whatever that may be..)_ but not this. His kinsman had known exactly what he leaped for _(for all his otherwise ignorance at certain things)_ but still, he hadn’t hesitated... but very somberly jumped with both feet.

That fierce conviction!

That complete unwavering disregard to public disapproval, to support his beliefs!

That’s what it meant to be a Gryffindor at its finest form!

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

But with such an acknowledgement (and his respect rising even more) Leonard was now forced to face his own duties towards Harry... The burning question now was what he should do regarding his kinsman’s most particular ignorance.

“Harry’s such a Gryffindor!” He laments softly, “...How on earth will I tell him this?” he nearly banged his head at the table.

No one would have ever accused Alphard of being slow, after a small teasing smile, for this very long sought -but appearing non-sequitur- admittance, he regarded Leonard kindly.

“So, you intend to tell him then?” he asked neutrally.

Leonard bit his lips.

“I have to... You saw what happened... The only reason it didn’t end with blood was his apparent ignorance. No way can he officially repeat such views as Lord -or even future Lord- Potter, much less voice them during a formal Wizengamot meeting... He’s going to lose all credit, the council members will instantly assume he’s not to be trusted, or even that he took the leading position in this House by force...”

_(Which indeed happened much more often than anyone was comfortable to admit)_

“I see...” It was again very kind, but still neutral, and Leonard felt deeply awkward.

“I don’t want to cause anyone to doubt him, I believe in him, but...”

_‘Whatever Harry knew so did Riddle, to have gotten him to defend werewolves and Muggleborns, it was impossible to be otherwise with such concessions...’_

Leonard tried to give words in his anxiety, but didn’t manage. Alphard was family -he had proved that- but he had given Riddle his complete loyalty. He had no idea how to articulate to him his fears without causing them another fight.

Alphard saw right through him and finally offered him a hand.

“But, even with that much at stake, something’s troubling you.” It wasn’t a question.

It was enough to ease some of his worry and the question was blurted forth, nearly before he had consciously decided to make it.

“How much does _He_ know?” it was impossible to misread which _he_ Leonard meant.

Alphard offered an elegant shrug.  
“Some, I suppose.” A tiny, mysterious smile.

“You suppose?” Leonard barely managed to not squeak, even _that much_ sounded mighty alarming.

Alphard’s smile became a smirk, a hard one.

“He’s a Slytherin, he knows the general part - you know we don’t hide behind easy lies to pander to muggleborn sensitivities...” his voice had become even softer and had taken on a cruel edge.

It was pretty obvious that he used the word muggleborn -and not something worse- as a mere courtesy.

“And what’s that supposed to mean? Details... please.” Leonard crossed his arms and demanded with barely controlled aggravation.

Seven years of schooling and -more importantly- Gryffindor coaching insisted that he should have replied with something far harsher. But, unfortunately or fortunately so, his mind and heart agreed with Alphard on this:    

 _‘He may find most muggleborns he knows to be alright people,_ _some he even liked a lot,_ _but it was vastly unfair to both sides to bury the truth for a supposed peace - that_ _wasn’t peace just hidden hostility.’_

Alphard leant back with apparent satisfaction.

“He knows of course that all those light hearted stories about Witches and Wizards getting away virtually unscratched from Holy Inquisition are nothing but filthy lies.” Unlike his expression, Alphard’s tone was far softer than the actual words.

“More than this... Specific details about the innocent - most helpless - victims and their numbers, as far I know them...” a meaningful pause, “I’m not exactly at liberty to share am I?” Finally the first hint of a genuine smile.

Leonard relaxed enough to release a long held breath.

The mere thought of Riddle - or someone like him - gaining such knowledge - and what he could do with it - sent a shudder of terror down his very soul.

“Do not mistake this,” Alphard continued, “My allegiance and total devotion are indisputable but, long before giving those, I took oaths -same as yours- and I’m not going to break them - to anyone. Frankly speaking, I can hardly imagine why anyone would have wished to, given a choice... Who would willingly air such a shame?”

His voice was completely wry but the warmth in his eyes belied that. Leonard knew that he could always trust him.

 _‘Also,_ _absolute devotion or not,_ _Leonard could read true understanding_ _-and maybe a shadow of the same fears-_ _Alphard was most certainly not blind to his Lord!_

_-He could trust to that as well.’_

“Thank you, cousin.” he fully acknowledged, nonetheless.

“I did nothing!” Alphard airily demurred.

Then his eyes were sharp once again.

“But, back to the original point, Harry is hardly anyone. He needs to know this, even just the bare basics. You really need to tell him.”

 _‘Slytherins!’_ Leonard sighed. _‘It figured that Alphard would want something!’_ (Even if it was something he was pretty much already set to do)

Still he wasn’t going to simply comply.

_‘Where was the fun without some ribbing!’_

“How come you never told him yourself?” he asked, appearing all innocence, “Not the concealed stuff, obviously, but everything else, he’s a Slytherin too, is he not?” he barely contained his smile.

Alphard made an unhappy sound.

“You think we didn’t try it?” he asked with clear aspersion. “...We tried -all of us- from the near start, but he took it that we were trying to indoctrinate him and it was hell to pay. Tom eventually took it in his own hands and we assumed it was settled.”

Both of them winced at what was coming... Tom’s reaction (especially on that light) was going to be phenomenally scary... Both instinctively searched for him, if only to assure themselves that it wasn’t yet ‘Bombarda’ Time!

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

At a first glance, everything seemed alright, normal talk appeared to have resumed, equally spirited in small pools, but that was just on the surface. Everyone just a small bit louder, just a small bit more present.

Unfortunately, for the sake of his nerves, while Tom and Harry seemed to follow the general principle they still did it on their own very distinct pattern.

_(meaning, they were back to where they had started to, ignoring each other)_

Worse so, Meli, much to her father's absolute consternation, was apparently _deeply_ impressed and had cornered Riddle under a near inexorable barrage of questions regarding his ideas (..all those he was going to get asked later tonight plus a hundred thousand or so more..) Riddle was answering everything patiently but even his own impressing acting skills couldn't hide his strain _(or intentionally showing it in hopes of shaming her to stop)._

No such luck, Mel was taking everything in like a sponge, far too immersed in picking Riddle's brains to actually consider societal niceties, much less act on them.

 _He couldn't help but_ _wonder who was going_ _to act in the end to shut_ _her up? Himself, her father, or Riddle?_

The worst part of it, as the situation continued, was that Harry would soon figure out Riddle's predicament and start sending him concerned glances _(..amused too..)_ instead of getting pissed and that -surely- sat with Riddle like a broken wand...   

Even if he managed to keep a pleasant façade, to maintain propriety, sooner or later there was going to be hell...

 _(The Diggory, Bones,_ _and Longbottom -alongside Minerva’s brother- were already invited to stay for supper, maybe he should invite them to stay afterwards too? Maybe that would be enough, to delay things, until that rage was focused on Grindelwald and not them -or each other-)_

However, the mere possibility to a later lashing out was hardly his most immediate concern. What truly terrified Leonard -in the here and now- was that Meli was right at the cyclone’s eye, innocently exacerbating it even, and Riddle didn’t really need his power to destroy people. _(just a few well chosen words were bad enough)_

_-His blow to her confidence - and the emotional scar it had left her - had taken her years to recover from. He hated to see him near her._

Leonard was both worried for her and pissed -hurt too- but the longer she stayed in Riddle's company the more possible it was that she would get hurt _(..in various ways..)_ He really needed to act fast.

As he made to get up and rectify things Alphard’s hand clamped onto his arm. “Idiot,” his cousin hissed. “Don’t you dare go all rash about it. You will focus all that accumulated rage right onto yourself.”

Leonard _knew_ this, but he preferred not think about it.

“Then _do_ something,” he hissed right back,”Meli is _right_ there.”

Alphard considered this, examining Tom once more, then exchanged some hurried looks, at the opposite table, with Minerva and seemed to come up with a plan.

“Alright, but you are so going to owe me one for this.” Then he cleared his throat to draw attention to himself.

“Congratulations, aunt Dorea! This is such a wonderful evening, you -and my lovely fiancée- organised a fête to remember!” He offered a graceful bow, not too over-the-top or too silly, just perfect. Leonard was almost envious.

There were some smiles, as well some groans, thanks to that really _-ginormous-_ understatement, but nothing overtly intense or aggressive, and any hint of revived tension was soon diffused.

Only Riddle seemed to instantly get where this was really heading -if his sharp considering look were to be judged- and while looking far from utterly pleased with it he didn't seem _all that_ irked and that was more than good enough for him.

(...Still, even if Riddle was deeply pleased, it was doubtful if he would actually let this go. Leonard had no illusions to his controlling nature and he could bet that his cousin had even less so. However, while Alphard appeared a bit tense, at the prospect -at this late point- he simply didn’t care...)

“Thank you, Alphard.” His mother smiled, genuinely pleased -although also undoubtedly suspecting of their motives- and Minerva blushed.

(Leonard was momentarily nonplussed at seeing her react in such a girly way)

Then Alphard spoke again.

“Speaking about my beautiful fiancée and seeing as this is such a rare and beautifully clear evening, with an undoubtedly lovely sunset ready to take place; I was wondering if we may be permitted a small walk around the garden?”

(...which just happened to cover enough hectares and/or possess enough auxiliary buildings to ensure their privacy, even amongst this many people...)

Dorea sent her nephew a reserved look.

His mother was no one’s fool and no matter how over the top it may seem -guarding their virtue, days close to their wedding- it was going to keep Minerva’s brother a bit quieter - assuming he even graced them with his presence, of course.

Alphard’s smile was very wide.  
“Leonard will accompany us, as chaperone, of course.”

His mother’s expression turned slightly resigned and Leonard grabbed his chance. He was many things -hotheaded when it come to action and not always controlling of his tongue- but hardly an idiot.

“Melissa, will you please accompany us?”

Meli blushed and didn’t seem that put out by the prospect of leaving with him. It seemed he had finally done something right.

But it was Sir Neville, her father, that was now giving him a weighing look...

Leonard didn’t look down, he had nothing to hide. He wanted to talk with Meli -more so, he wanted to just spent time with her, as much he could- but he wouldn’t ask her for anything more - except maybe some kisses. He respected her far too much to use the incoming battle in such dishonourable way.

Finally, Sir Neville deigned to offer a gravelly nod.  
“I trust her in your safekeeping.”

Leonard couldn't help but blink at this... The words were utterly formal, the tone by itself nearly ritualistic, but before he could gather his wits, enough to grasp the full meaning, Sir Neville dashed any leaping hope with his curt conclusion.

“...Bring her back well before dinner.”

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Much to their surprise, getting permission wasn’t the last obstacle thrown their way. Alphard, to their utter confusion, got delayed by Ignatius Prewett, just as they were leaving, so Leonard himself ended up forced to proceed with a girl on each arm.

It was far from the pleasant sensation one should have expected...

Irregardless of his concern regarding Prewett’s intentions _(he could be even challenging Harry to a duel for all he knew - doing so through a representative was considered -very- bad manners but happened nonetheless)_ any attempt at talk was plain stilted.

The wait itself well beyond awkward, with Meli unfailingly polite but ready to out-freeze the Arctic and Minerva far more of a hindrance than a support, for all her offer of an encouraging smile and the way _obvious_ suppression of her own curiosity.

_(..not much was ever missed by Minnie..)_

Min was clearly deeply anxious about her brother (half dreading/half anticipating what he may say and terrified, as the hours passed, that he wasn’t going to come here at all) and with Leonard himself completely unable to offer his own support, whether it be a half-comforting gesture or a kind word, as any such action would get misinterpreted and cause Meli to freeze up even more.

Leonard felt his bravery trickling out of him with every step.

Things only slightly improved for them when Alphard caught up to them right as the cobbled path curved towards the back gardens. Minerva instantly relaxed with her fiancé’s presence and took his offered arm without a fuss.

She was also visibly concerned _(..meaning dying to ask..)_ about what Auror Prewett wanted (a very close friend to Fergus as far as he knew) albeit keeping her mouth shut, both out of respect to Meli and to guard their privacy. Alphard on the contrary didn’t have such hesitations.

“Relax, baby,” he crooned, “...it wasn’t on Fergus’ behalf - although he informed me that he’s going to help him kill me - if I don’t marry you - and disintegrate my body, so that there won’t be any evidence, for even a preliminary inquiry, to Wizengamot. Fergus will come, you will see...”

He concluded this with a kiss to her temple.

Minerva’s cheeks looked suspiciously pink and her relief quite plain - even leaning on Alphard’s arm for a tiny bit - but she still glared for the use of such -very private- endearment and her weakness lasted only for the shortest moment, near instantly remembering herself and slapping away his hand.

“Alphard, for shame! We aren’t alone and poor Melissa here doesn’t deserve to get dragged into our dirty linen.”

Alphard offered only a token of contrition.

“I’m truly sorry for this, Cousin Melissanthe.” (slightly teasing tone at her full name) Then he softly addressed Minerva.   

“You were worried, what else should I have done?” a wink towards them both.  
“She will be family, very soon, anyway.”

‘ _...She was already a part of their extended family and blood -in the loose sense- to both of them._ ’ But Leonard understood what his closest cousin by blood was really telling him. It was an understanding that left him hopeful, exhilarated, and terrified out of his wits.

“It’s alright, I didn’t mind it, and I wish you the very best,” Meli spoke then, probably just to end the debate, as it was still awkward - but considerably thawed.

This time both Minerva and Alphard smiled at them.

“The same to you two, every happiness.” A very forgiving sort, Minnie had instantly dispatched of the other girl’s previous coldness.

“...and a fast upcoming wedding.” Alphard’s smile had a bit of leer and he waggled his eyebrows as he offered his own well-wishes.

But the last bit was more than enough to make Leonard instantly feel wrong footed and even strangely afraid. There were quite a few issues regarding their upcoming marriage and even if those were blessedly fixed he was still not going to proceed with it unless he was fully certain that she wanted him as much as he did.

Meli was here with him, warm and sweet -the very girl he fell heedlessly in love with- holding at the promise of a warm future. Although it was doubtful that he could get her in a better mood to hear him out, everything could -and most probably should- fall right to dust and -Gryffindor or not- he wasn’t ready to lose her - not right at this moment.

So, even as he offered his own thanks, with Meli, he sought out a way to delay that telling moment, for a little while yet at least. His unending curiosity (concern as well) like so many times before, offered him that - together with a deeper hole for him to fall into.

_‘Well, he wanted -needed- to know anyway.’_

“So, what exactly did Auror Prewett want from you, in such a hurry? Why did he have to leave, so soon? Did he tell you? He didn’t changed his mind, did he?”

_‘Yes, someday his curiosity was going to kill him!’_

Everyone around him was well acquainted with that flaw in his personality so there wasn’t much of a fallout, just Minerva’s long-suffering: “Leonard!” ...and Alphard’s impish rolling of his eyes. Even Meli wore a fondly exasperated look.

_‘Merlin help them all!’_

Alphard just itched to tell them, anyway, and after a fast reassurance - that there wasn’t any such retreating - his smile just spilled.

“He didn’t go in any details but he probably wanted to forewarn his family about the new alliance and the changed policies. His brothers are quite easy going guys but his mother and sisters not so much.” he sounded this side of delighted.

Minerva made a disapproving sound and crossed her arms however Alphard didn’t made even a pretence of backing down.

“Come on, Minnie,” he cajoled, “You know that Prewett women are just plain scary!” his joyous expression turned into a sly smirk with that.

 _Both_ girls complained at such disparagement -of innocent, absent people no less- but Leonard remembered Muriel Prewett and could barely hide a sympathetic wince.

“One sister _is_ scary.-” he put his own two Knuts in, earning three surprised looks due to specifically speaking against a lady - a Gryffindor one no less. So he elaborated.

“Muriel was the scariest Prefect and/or Head Girl ever to grace Hogwarts’ grounds. Our Minerva was as unobtrusive as a mice compared to her.”

That resulted in some lively snickers (far too polite to be called laughs) and a stern look from Minerva.

“I resent that.” but her lips were twitching, giving away the lie to her disapproval.

“...Anyway,” Alphard continued, after a small pat around Min’s waist, “...You’re never going to believe this, but - after the initial threat - he asked me -since it was plainly apparent that I had no claim, at cousin Lucretia’s hand- if that meant that she was free from any other claim as well and so he could press his own suit.”

Leonard couldn’t help but beam at such great news.

Cousin Lucretia deserved her chance at happiness as much as anyone else, maybe more. She was maybe -very- unconventional, but she was also a truly good person. So long as Prewett knew the score -and it was impossible he didn’t - what with her scandalous reputation- and treated her right he had truly no cause -nor right, frankly speaking- to form any kind of objection.

“...and what did you tell him, Alphard?” Minerva’s voice sounded throaty as she took to caressing Alphard’s arm… Leonard noticed that while her hand may have kept its elegant shape, even the beautiful red manicure, her long-long nails looked much more like wicked claws than anything else.

 _‘‘Sheesh, girl! Possessive much?’’_ Alphard seemed to like it anyway…  
(Smirking like a smug git)

“I told him, but of course, that I had absolutely no claim to her -that was purely our fathers’ idea- although I still cared for her as a kinsman - and consequently he had the all-clear from me to pursue her, so long as he had honest intentions - of course. But I strongly advised him to directly court her - not ask her father.” Alphard sounded deadly serious about the last bit.

“You did great, Alphard, I’m proud of you.” Minerva’s approval was palpable. “He’s a good man, I hope he will manage to win her over and make her happy.”

“Indeed.” Meli sounded grim, but just as approving,

“...The further away her father stays from this the better conclusion it will have. I can’t say I’m that comfortable or that I would have done the same, but I can certainly understand her actions.” she shot an immovable look at him, daring him to contradict her.

Leonard had no such intention as he agreed with her to a T.

But, he had to admit, he certainly wasn’t expecting her to have such opinions - with her sheltered and very conservative upbringing - much less expressing them with such fortitude. She had never raised her voice before, no matter what.

But he liked it, liked it a lot.

Seeing that there wasn’t any disapproval from him she continued, at an even more passionate voice.

“What Barty Crouch did to her was disgusting and unforgivable and his family not any better, for trying to cover things up, at her expense, instead of putting him up to task and leaving her alone. And her father the very worst of all, for betraying her so, by going along with it... Family should never treat family like that... No, she did the best thing she could by cutting him any way to sell her around!”

 _‘Well, that was certainly one way to put it!_ _  
_ _Family’s betrayal...’_

Leonard would have happily busted Barty Crouch’s face given the chance, then or now, (six years older than him or not) for not denying getting engaged to her -consummating it- _and then_ rejecting her on the basis that she was far too easy by giving in to him. He may have done it to get away from a vastly unwanted marriage, but he was nothing but a cad about it _(and totally disregarding of his House’s reputation)._ Meli was right.

But it was purely said House’s fault what happened next -insisting on that marriage alliance at all costs- presenting her the older brother, Caspar, as her groom instead of protecting her... Lucretia would have caused none of those exposing scandals if she wasn’t protecting herself...

...and he couldn’t help but wonder if his so proper, sweet -and yet so strong- Meli would have reacted in a similar way, if backed up against such a wall...

It wasn’t a comforting thought.

Still, the _very_ disturbing contemplation grabbed him enough that he almost missed Mel’s next question and it took him a moment or so to grab the actual meaning.

“What about you, Leonard?” Meli looked so very earnest with her question. “Do you agree with any of this? What about your own claim?” Her voice was very mild once again, but there was a strange fire to her eyes that both deeply worried Leonard - and warmed him to his bones.

_‘He really had a chance with her after all!’_

Still, he was very careful with his answer.

“I couldn’t agree more with you, on everything, you know this. As for a claim, I never actually thought I had one - at least not one stronger than Alphard’s - but, even if we take a past intimacy as such, I don’t believe that a man can have a claim - of any kind - to a woman without her willing consent, and desire - it will be a dead thing.”

Seeing his Meli’s wild flash of approval at his heartfelt words, Leonard found his Gryffindor courage once more... There was no point -or need- to delay things any longer.

First, he addressed Minerva and Alphard.

“Will you two mind it much to leave us alone for a bit, will you mind Meli?” he added, momently wondering if he should have asked her first instead of last, but then Mel graciously nodded -still rather guarded for all her previous jealously and approval- and Leonard let out a long breath.

Winning her was far from certain, but she was going to hear him out at least.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Finally, after one last warning/reassurance from Minerva -that they were going to be around- and the slipping of some vital information at Alphard’s ear, they were left all alone.

The silence was once again fairly oppressive, but Leonard plain unabashedly used the moment to simply observe his sweetheart.

The last rays of the setting sun were falling right on her honey-blonde hair, making them seem auburn or golden _(..nothing like the moon paleness of a Malfoy, her own radiance shining so much bolder..)_ and her golden brown eyes, behind her chunky glasses, appeared more mysterious than ever... She looked vulnerable, defiant, and more than slightly aggravated, but she was here, waiting for him to speak.

Feeling like a heel, Leonard did.

“What have I done to you, Meli, to anger you so?” he asked her, maybe far gentler than he should.

She looked at him incredulously, like she simply couldn’t understand how on earth he could not know, but didn’t flung back the question -her previous jealousy aside- blame-games were never part the way they dealt with each other.

“I know that our engagement was primarily merely a deal between our parents,” he continued hesitantly, “But surely you must know I care about you and I had come to believe that you cared about me as well.”

That made her eyes snap right to him.

“I do,” she replied softly, “both of those,” a small sigh, “...but I have come to realise that caring alone can’t be the absolute everything regarding marriage compatibility - no matter how much I may wish it. There are far too many other considerations as well and there may be even stronger bonds still.”

It was like an Ice dragon had directed at him all the power of its breath. Everything froze inside of Leonard.   

_‘Noooooooo.’_

A million angry and hurtful retorts came to his lips, their sheer number somehow locking his tongue, but eventually he managed a somewhat calm:

“Have - have you decided on another?” After that initial break his voice remained mostly even.   

 _‘Surely_ _it was way too soon to have found another!_ _Nor was she blind and/or stupid to set her sights on Riddle once again...’_

Meli didn’t lose that calm expression, but a strange glint in her eyes wasn’t missed.

“No, I haven’t,” she kept the same placid tone, “...but it is not me that’s hosting my ex-fiancé, in my own home, or summarily ignoring you.” reasonable even.

if Leonard had been punched it wouldn’t have left him as much as surprised.

“Really, then what was all that about?” he exclaimed. “...You could hardly take your eyes off of Riddle, during the whole day, and you certainly found not a few common interests to talk about as well. I hardly existed to you.” the words burst forth on their own.

Meli’s mouth had formed a small -o- of surprise, but her eyes, after a knowing flash, had become utterly unreadable. It infuriated Leonard even more.

“Are you going to try offering him your favour, once more, hoping for a better result this time?” he nearly sneered.

It was the cruellest thing he could have told her, and hurtful. Far more so than if he had consciously planned it, but while a strong part of him felt horrible for hurting her so - and ashamed - it wasn’t up to a hundred percent so.

Meli’s cheeks had gone marble white and then a fiery red, with his rant, but not out of shame... She was fiercely angry with him, sad and hurt as well, but apparently had no problem to meet his eyes, much less give him a piece of her mind.

“I can’t believe that you said _that_ to me...” a look, full of hurt, “...much less that you brought back the past.” a ragged breath, “I thought that you knew me and trusted me better than this.” Her eyes were shining with tears but stubbornly refused to let even a single one fall.

Any vague sense of retribution fled from him. His mouth tasted like ashes.

“Meli...” he tried to apologise.

Mel froze him with her eyes and her voice was now deathly calm.

“...I won’t say I wasn’t impressed with him today, even downright awed, maybe even crushing a bit,” self deprecating smile, “-He could change our entire world for the best, if half of them were put into effect.” that note of sheer admiration was back.

Leonard wanted to shake her.

“But from that to actually wanting him, much less willingly allowing him to hurt me once more, thank you, but _No_.- I’m not thirteen anymore.” dry. Her voice was laced with pain and bitterness, but also decisiveness, and Leonard had a clear recollection of the past:

Most girls kept chasing Riddle, no matter what -or after how many dismissals- but not Meli. She was stubborn like that.    

Mel had had kept her head high and simply stopped willingly taking to him, smiling, or even just reacting to his presence - he was dead to her.

_(..alright he believed it a far worse offence than a curt dismissal, but the point was still apt..)_

In that light his jealously now seemed close to ridiculous.

“I’m sorry, Mel.” he told her with true contriteness.

Meli sent him a sad little smile then sighed.

“Maybe you weren’t _that_ wrong to be cross with me...” she spoke very softly,

“...My behaviour was very close to inappropriate, worse, looking like completely disregarding you. But I swear -I swear- it wasn’t done on purpose to hurt you.” she looked absolutely miserable but utterly truthful. - _It hurt like hell._

“You remember how it was, don’t you?” even softer voice.

Leonard did. - _Parts of those still raised in him an urge for violence._

“You don’t have to tell me anything, Meli.” he replied equally softly.

“But I do.” warm voice, but she continued speaking - not unlike picking at a scab.

“...You know how I was teased for my undivided preoccupation with Herbology, by nearly everyone, how even Professor Beery tended to not take me all that seriously, dismissing my ambitions for a Mastery, because I was a girl and consequently too busy with other things, later on, to seriously apply myself...” her little fists were tightening and loosening with the hurtful remembrance.

Leonard had no idea why she kept doing that to herself.

“But you proved him wrong, you proved them all wrong, you’re going to have your Mastery in less than a year, you made the professor eat his hat.” It wasn’t just a placation, he was _damn_ proud of her.

That provoked a small giggle but the melancholy won over once again.

“Even Papa, who taught me, supported -encouraged me even- and was so proud of my achievements, sees it only as business and doesn’t understand.” Her voice was still quiet but full of despair and aggravation.    

“He keeps telling me, that after marriage, I will have many more other things vying for my attention.”

_(..to say nothing about her mother’s opinions which, he knew, had never been even -that- encouraging..)_

_Personally he saw no reason why couldn’t she continue,_ _in the family business, or even completely taking over it, since she was the only one feeling so deeply passionately about it. Also, he -really- saw no reason why couldn’t build her own greenhouse business - if they so insisted on excluding her - but that was hardly something they could/should focus on right now._

Leonard snorted his opinion about marriage halting her in any way and that coaxed from her a tiny smile. Still Meli continued, as if there had been no break at all.

“Only Riddle seemed to have an appreciation for my talents and to believe in me...”

_(Riddle and -him- to be precise. But, at the time, he was just her cousin - full of acne and awkwardness - no way comparable to the other’s way with words, perfect looks and marks, charm, and extracurricular knowledge... He had been a mere footnote - not that he was bitter or anything)_

“...regularly keeping me, as his Herbology partner, during second and third year, never otherwise soughing me out, or particularly approachable, but so remarkably knowledgeable, accomplished, and even kind to me - in his way. ...He’d once told me that he accepted only excellence...” An infuriating blush accompanied those words, twisting the knife even more.

 _(...Few years back he would have scoffed with this, believing it nothing but a honey trap. Now he could see a partial truth: Riddle didn’t give a crap about Meli herself,_ _as a person,_ _her brand of knowledge though,_ _her applicable talents,_ _were of a certain value...)_

Part of him wanted to share this new insight with her, to give her back _at least_ that much of her pride _(Meli valued her accomplishments far more than her looks, not really -truly- regarding herself as an attractive girl)_ but his unbroken worry, regarding her safety in His presence - emotional and physical alike - as well some less noble -and way selfish- sentiments kept his mouth firmly shut.

“...before my horrible social gaffe, I really considered him as a sort of friend.”

 _That_ made him react, shattering his resolution to stay silent until she was done.

“Don’t.” his voice was nearly harsh. “Whatever his reasoning about it, he led you on. For nearly a year he led you on.- You made a mistake -yes- but it wasn’t your entire fault.” the words left his lips in nearly a tumble.

Melissa just looked at him, wide eyed, and _that_ expression brought forth everything that he fervently preferred to keep for himself.    

“...But, if you are working yourself into forgiving him, I would deeply prefer it if you did it elsewhere.”

Another -o- of surprise, this time accompanied with a look akin to pleasure.    

“That’s what I have been trying to tell you.” Meli sounded fond of all things. Leonard didn’t understand a thing.

“Today, I’ve finally realised that it doesn’t truly matter if I forgive him or not, it's plainly irrelevant. He doesn’t have power over me any more.” triumphed voice, an exultant grin. Leonard was still not sure if could believe it, with such a loaded led on, but he very much wanted to.

Meli continued to happily prattle.

“For a little while it was like I had been transferred back then, better even... He was still dazzling, still full of that astounding intellectual curiosity and insight, and more knowledgeable than ever!” a pause, as if to consider her own words.

“...He wasn’t even just a bit surprised by my own continuous progress and had still those high expectations for me!” her voice was full of quiet pleasure and even had a dash of awe.

Leonard wanted to groan. _‘It seemed there was no real unloading of the bastard’s shadow between them, no matter what she may believe...’_ All the same her longing for acknowledgement pulled right at his heartstrings.

“He’ll be a fool not to be,” he told her solemnly. “Riddle is good at it cause he can’t stand to lack on anything, not because it's his thing, like Defence... You’re the real deal and even He acknowledges that.”

Meli coloured up to the roots of her hair but still looked at him like he was a strange specimen. Then she seemed to gather herself.

“He may be all those things, then or now, -like a magical Rhett Butler- but that goes for the negative parts as well. I wasn’t his Scarlett, not even a Melly, and he had no compunction to throw me at the wolves, to avoid inconvenience.” for all the matter of fact tone, bitterness and the ashes of rage were unmistakable.

Leonard wasn’t surprised by that comparison, Meli had loved ‘Gone With The Wind’ from before Hogwarts, persuading uncle Marius to take them see it half a dozen times or more, while it played, as well getting her the book to take along. Nor was it a bad example per se, both as a matter of charm and acute danger _(..he refused to even consider other similarities..)_ but he had frankly gotten beyond sick hearing about Riddle’s attributes.

“Is there a point to this or do you just enjoy gushing about him?” he asked, point blank. It was hardly the way one should speak to a girl, but it was the most civilised tone that he could manage.

Again Meli looked inexplicably pleased.

“Yes, my Leonard, there is a point.” uncharacteristically long suffering tone, “...I’ve been avoiding him -like the plague- for nearly four years, to ward off forgiving him and/or falling for him once again. Today I’ve realised that there was hardly need for such lengths.” a tiny smile.

“I may have enjoyed his company, wit, intensity and attention -and even more so the sheer intellectual challenge- but it stopped there. I neither wanted nor loved him. It was like taking my NEWTs, months earlier than expected, - ten times more difficult than the pre-set syllabus and managing to pass none the less - it was exhilarating! But it didn’t reach deeper than that. My heart was finally free!”

Leonard supposed that he should have been close to ecstatic at hearing this, unfortunately the only feelings coursing his heart were a strange icy numbness and the deafening echo of her implicit -but way clear- admission: of still having feelings for Riddle -or the belief of it- _(which was hardly better)_ during the time she accepted his proposal.

_‘It was one thing to be fearful and quite another to have it confirmed.’_

“I see.” He barely managed to form the words.

Meli looked utterly confused at his sudden coldness but then her spine stiffened in response and she regarded him equally coolly.   

“The only dilemma left to me now is how far can I trust _you_.”

Leonard didn’t get it right at once but, as it sunk, the sheer injustice of her words: (comparing him with Riddle of all people) enraged him as nothing else in his life.

“Will you mind explaining that one?” he asked her from behind clenched teeth.

Meli had never heard such a tone from him before and looked at him with wide eyes but she still didn’t back down.

“I won’t say -never ever say it- that you don’t care about me or that there is even a bit of chance that you will treat me like Tom did, but it's fairly obvious I’m far less in your confidence than I believed I was. -Far lesser than certain _friends_ of yours that much for sure.” From her that was outright catty.

Leonard was so utterly befuddled that it somewhat halted his rage.

“I really can’t believe that you are jealous of Minerva -of all people- for Merlin’s sake!” he said at least. Meli crossed her arms and regarded him stonily.

“You know that my previous engagement to her was nothing but a formality and you saw her -just now- with Alphard. Do you honestly believe I would be playing such a game with him, or that he would actually risk getting disinherited over nothing?” he was again getting really worked up over this.

Meli just sighed, looking at him sadly.

“I wasn’t speaking about want and desire, but of trust and friendship and counting at each other. You used to trust me, Leonard.” Her eyes were burning him, stealing his breath.

“You used to be open with me, over the years, with your problems and even more so after our engagement...” she was blushing furiously and, at the reminder of those stolen moments, Leonard’s cheeks started burning as well.

(He was never going to speak about it to a soul, but he was completely convinced that only Meli’s support, over those months, held him back from imploding with the sheer emotional pressure and fear he was under, for his father...

...He couldn’t even count how many afternoons they spent holed together, either at an empty classroom or Greenhouse Three, sometimes talking sometimes not, with his head held in her lap, while she carded his hair with her fingers)

“What changed? ...You barely bothered telling me that Evans was truthfully a Potter -though not your brother- at the school feast and have been avoiding me ever since - you didn’t even sit with me during the train ride.” Her hurt was once again plain to see.

Leonard had no idea how to deal with this. Meli’s hurt was all too real. All the same, his resolution to keep her safe from this mess was just as real... The only thing he could do was to offer her his own truth and hope for the best.

“As far as my personal feelings are concerned nothing changed - and _I do_ trust you, Meli, I trust you above everything.”

Meli opened her mouth to contest this, but closed it again as if defeated by the very truth of his words.

“But then, _why?”_ her voice broke on the last word and she forced down her excess of emotion with a dry swallow.

“Why did you exclude me so callously, after this, as if we were over? And _why_ -if that wasn’t the case- the only thing -regarding _us-_ you actually had to say, was just that: ‘‘You were _‘sorry’.”_  rising tone, “That you and your family were _‘indisposed’_ to join us for Yule.’’-” Another small hitch.

Leonard’s ears were burning and he could hardly look at her. From Meli’s point -of- view, he was just plain unforgivable and he could understand her frustration.

_(Even her outrageous comparison made a certain sense now, under that light)_

Still, the mere thought of her being around situations such as those of the previous days -with Riddle and Harry seemingly civil, at a first glance, but in reality ready to tear each other’s throat out- chilled him to his bones.

_‘No, he would rather die -or lose her- than risk her like that.’_

“You saw what’s actually going on, how on Merlin’s name could I explain this?” The exasperation in his voice wasn’t an act - _‘He didn’t even know how to act anyway.’_

“...As for Minerva, she got involved because of Harry and Alphard. I could hardly deny her my hospitality.”

Meli didn’t recross her arms, but it was apparent it took her actual effort to contain any sort of reaction.

“Maybe by telling me how it went from learning that Evans was in some way related to you - to hosting his entire company and even launching a full-scale attack against _Nurmengard.”_ Even with her trained calmness, it was impossible to avoid a note of pure hysterics at the mere mention of the Dark Stronghold.

 _‘Still_ _better_ _than_ _my_ _own_ _reaction!’_ Leonard privately admitted with a bit of scoffing humour. The same kind of humour that made him add:

“What about making my home the headquarters of a rising Dark Lord - Lords!?”

This time he got the stink eye.  
“Surely you exaggerate.”

Leonard froze. Meli tried to appear scoffing but was pretty obviously alarmed. That was a problem. He wanted neither to scare her away nor have her alarm her father (and all consequences coming with it) much less Riddle’s enragement for drawing such suspicions right to them.

“Maybe a bit.” he hedged some.

_(It was cowardly and unchivalrous of him -positively knavish- but he really couldn’t bear to be the one ending their engagement -even if it could protect Meli’s feelings - if nothing else- not while he still held hopes to survive the battle -and afterwards- and especially not while there was even the barest chance for things to work right between them)_

Meli looked marginally relieved, but only for a mere second, next thing her eyes had sharpened from behind her glasses.

“Politically or power wise?”

Leonard blinked but he wasn’t really surprised. Meli was quiet and unassuming but hardly stupid - nor did she back down _(unless it didn’t really matter to her)._ He may be anxious and aggravated, at what to tell her _(or how to tell her),_ but he meant what he said about trusting her.   

- _He was also grateful -deeply so- to her, for not giving up to him._

Leonard sighed and gathered his thoughts.

“Politically mostly.” a very wry grin, “...I’m not going to insult -or cast doubt- to your own perception, regarding their power, no one who saw them in action -even just today- is ever going to doubt that. Will they?” a questioning look.

Meli offered a confirming nod. Leonard continued.

“...Neither is there much doubt in that their views are hardly what we call Light or even mainstream -you saw it yourself as well-” This time it was Meli that smiled wryly, emboldening him.

“But while I can honestly admit that today’s spectacle is probably just a mere rehearsal on the way to their plan to shake the world and eventually change it, there is nothing to those plans - as far I’m aware- that hints of violence, a forceful takeover, and/or an intended war…” a reassuring look.

“Nothing of Grindelwald’s methods, only politics.”

Meli took in his every word with wide eyes, and after he was done offered him a small, tremulous smile.

“I’m so glad to hear that...” her small hand slipped under his arm. “...I couldn’t bear it if you had gotten yourself involved -or allied to- with something evil...” she came even nearer.

Her closeness and her light perfume flooded Leonard, overcoming his ability to form thoughts, or speak - for a while.

Still, even after he regained some of his wits, he stayed close, mainly enjoying the moment but also trying to understand why this felt partially wrong - or at least like something was missing.

Then he understood.

Meli may have leaned on him but she wasn’t completely relaxed. Her arms felt taut like strings. Even if she had sought solace in his arms she most certainly hadn’t found it.

His anxiety and concern went sky high.

_‘Her alarm -as well relief- were definitely true, as well her tenseness... Riddle’s -and Harry’s- power, shown so blatantly as today, could have easily provoked it, but she would have addressed it first, not gone in such runabout way - nor did it truly fit with the way she had handled Riddle altogether.’_

It looked far more like someone else had put her to it.

_‘Sir Neville may not have known Tom and Harry’s political astuteness but he had certainly long before observed their power - it wasn’t illogical to have Meli ask him about it...’_

Leonard normally would have dismissed such a thought but today had shown a harder side to his old family ally.  

_‘He needed to test it.’_

“Meli.” he addressed her softly and with a hint of his concern. Meli raised her head from his shoulder and regarded him seriously.

“I would never call them innocent - or anything less than dangerous as fu-” cough, “-as hell - but hardly evil.” he stated this with conviction and followed it by a fast teasing smile.

“Don’t you agree?”

Meli licked her lips nervously and avoided re-meeting his eyes, which confirmed his fears.

“I believe so, but even then I'm not entirely certain if my opinion is clear and unbiased or simply what I want to believe - there are too many things to this....”

_(and she didn’t even have a Harry factor to count at)_

Still, for all the soft implication that she didn’t want to believe badly of him _(or even Riddle - damn it)_ the very gingerly way she handled this was a clear tell that there were indeed external factors.

Feeling like he had started to freeze, Leonard steeled himself and asked the question.   

“Meli.” his very abruptness instantly forced her eyes to him, “...did something happen over the last few days?” He was quite vague but he believed he got understood well enough.

The flash in Meli’s eyes confirmed it something had indeed occurred.

“Yes,” her voice was soft. “My brother got bonded with Augusta Wilson three days ago.”

Just like that Leonard’s gut turned to ice.  
“I see.” he managed to reply through numb lips.

Someday, hopefully not centuries later, he was going to find pleasure in his friend's happiness. Not now though. This moment, this casual insulting rejection hurt him well beyond words.

Meli winced at his reaction.  
“You don’t understand-” she tried to explain.

But Leonard could barely stand it and cut her off, nearly harshly.

“Trust me, Mel, I really - _really_ \- do.” Still he managed to keep his voice steady.

Hastened marriages -when the groom was an Auror- to ensure the continuation of the family were far from unheard of, during war times, even if the bride was still in school. It was only logical for Sir Nevile -and Antony- to arrange this and hardly a point towards their own hurried marriage, even if the engagement was still valid, there wasn’t a chance he would get her with child, to continue the line, before the battle, was it...  

“You understand NOTHING.-” It was Meli’s turn to cut his thoughts and she did it with such harshness and finality -as he had never heard from her before- that Leonard could do nothing but stare, speechless.  

“You understand nothing,” Meli repeated much softer, “My father had been very willing to include you. Part of the invitation had been exactly to talk about this, but seeing that you didn’t come, the decision was taken without you.” At the last part her voice had become again frosty.      

“I’m sorry, Meli.” he replied sheepishly, nearly faint with relief.

But his relief was short lived as he realised that while Meli nodded her acceptance, her expression remained remote and she didn’t seem all that ready to forgive him.

“Have I lost you?” he asked her with fresh dread.

“I don’t know.” Meli’s reply was disturbingly vague.

“You don’t know?” he echoed her, trying to make even a bit of sense.

Meli licked her lips, appearing the very picture of nervousness, but then stiffened her spine and regarded him candidly.

“My father decided to leave the choice to me, seeing as I’m of age, but I don’t believe there is truly the option for us to bond right now, is there?” her voice held a certain melancholy.

Leonard couldn’t help himself, he flinched.

Suddenly it was like the Ice dragon was looking at him, from behind Meli’s eyes.

“I see.” The words were soft, but somehow final - all but sending him to Niflheim.

“I’ll return this, then...”

She started to slip off her promise ring, though her hands were trembling too hard for it to be very effective.

“Meli, No.-” Beyond terrified with the carried act more than any word, Leonard grabbed her hands in his own, holding them tight.

“Please, Meli, don’t.” he outright pleaded.

“Why?” she sounded choked. “If you don’t really want to marry me...”

Leonard was nearly stunned with this.  
“But, _I do_ want to marry you. I want it nearly above _Everything_.-”

Meli bit her lips.  
“Why don’t you want us to marry now, then?”

Leonard couldn’t -and wouldn’t- answer this.

“Why can’t you wait until June, as it was already arranged? I swear I’m not going to leave you even a day, other than this school vacation, on Augusta’s power, you will be free very soon.”

A million or so emotions seemed to pass from Meli’s face, too fast for him to really understand, but in the end it settled on a calm, dispassionate mask that disturbed him more than anything.

“You think I’m asking this because I want to avoid Gussie?” her voice was also calm but with a side of incredulousness.

Leonard rubbed the back of his head, feeling really awkward.

“There is no shame to this, Mel, I know how things are. She has been covertly awful to you, ever since her engagement to your brother, practically lording it over you and constantly badgering you if you have found someone to marry and the like... I’m not going to leave you in her verbal abuse more than I have to.”

Again, a thoughtful look.

“You don’t think I can handle her, in my own house?” Meli asked him, _very_ sweetly.

Maybe it was the overt sweetness but Leonard was suddenly aware that he was in very dangerous waters. Hastily, he tried to mend things as best he could.

“I never doubted that. You have dealt with her -and a number of even worse bullies- for years, never lowering yourself to fight with them but never backing down an inch either - and I admired that, I still do. I just don’t see why you should tolerate it if you don’t have to.” Still, he spoke without reservation, giving her total honesty.

Meli was regarding him, slightly mollified, then shrugged.

“Gussie is a silly goose, a pretty domineering one at that, but for all her insecurities she genuinely cares about my brother and he for her...” a pause,

“I may not like her much, part of me may even hope, or look forward, to the day my mother will finally see behind her meek mask and put her in place; but I’m not going to personally test their relationship with my complaints.” a firm look.

Leonard wasn’t really surprised by her selfless approach.

“You matter too, Mel,” he gently countered her. “...and if it’s really a true love match, instead of a mere House arrangement, they can certainly deal with some honesty.” Too late he realised exactly what he said.

“You have a point, though I’m not in much of a hurry to pursue this,” a self deprecating smile. Then she took his hands.

“What would really matter for me to know is why can’t we marry right now instead of later? What’s stopping us?”

She looked at him so earnestly, so full of trust, that Leonard knew he was backed into a wall, there wasn’t a way out.

“Would you really be comfortable sharing a house with Riddle and co, for however short a time?” he asked her, point blank, with unhidden asperity.

Meli, to her credit, thought about it.

“Fully comfortable I’m not sure, but I can handle him - I’ve proved that, and we’ll be together,” a hopeful smile, “...isn’t that what matters most?”

Leonard had been shaking his head even before she was done speaking.  
“No, I can’t risk it.”

Meli seemed to freeze all over, like an ice statue.

“That means you either have been lying, right to my face, or you don’t trust me near him.” She looked and sounded gutted with sorrow, but her hands were far steadier as she slipped off her ring.

“Meli no!”

Without conscious thought Leonard found himself on his knees.

“Please, Meli, don’t. Not like this, not here and now...” his voice broke.

“I love you!” a tremulous breath, another...until he was again able to handle himself. Even then, he didn’t speak again, until he took in her full reaction.

Meli had her fist to her mouth, to not allow even a single sound to escape, but her eyes held the wildest look, one of hope and happiness, hesitation and immense apprehension, it was all there. Thoughtlessly, near gracelessly, she sank until she was sitting right beside him in the cobbled stone.

Leonard’s heart filled and he was able to open his mouth once more.    

“We may not have spoken about love, but surely you must have known my feelings - for years.” There was no helping his tone though.

“-I- did.” It was her voice now, the one trembling, “You were always looking at me with such warmth,” (her intense blush betraying that she meant heat) “...and yet with respect too, that I couldn’t help but fall as well.” a breath, “...But it looks like you love me more like a cousin, your dearest one, more than anything else.”

You could have knocked Leonard over with a feather.  
“A cousin?” he nearly squeaked in his incredulousness.

Meli didn’t back down, her expressive look subtly reminding him that his (one and only) sexual affair, with their notorious cousin, was something of an open secret.

Which indeed ‘point’, but...

“You know why.” he snapped, way irritated.

_(...Anything else aside, he didn’t care one bit if some of their muggleborn classmates wouldn’t have considered it such a disgrace, Leonard refused to treat them, regard them, with less respect than towards purebloods. As for the other option, going for the engaged ones -like Alphard did, before Minerva- it was equally reprehensible in its own way...)_

_‘How could he touch a friend’s, or even a classmate’s fiancée and look him in the eye afterwards?’_

“I do.” Meli acknowledged, but then continued. “My point is still valid.”

If Leonard had been irritated before now he approached downright angry. Still, the plain insecurity and vulnerability he could read in her face gave him pause.

“It’s not the same.” he protested when he calmed some. “I never cared for Lucretia even a tenth-” a hundredth, “-to what I care about you.”

Meli seemed deeply sad, but stayed unmoved.    

“I never doubted your love, Leonard, only whether I could live with and/or accept a certain overtly protective attitude that came with it.” her hands trembled only the slightest bit as she closed his own around the ring.

...and just like that Leonard’s hard-defeated anger was right back, worse even, he was spitting mad.

\- _How dare she play with him like that?_ To say she loved him and _then_ reject him... It would have been easier -and far less confusing- if she had done it at once.

Meli made to get up. He didn’t let her. It was time to show her he wasn’t her toy.

“Funny that this came up now... I don’t seem to recall you complaining over my protectiveness ever before. Are you sure it’s not something else? Maybe it’s you that loves me as a cousin and nothing else...”

Somewhere behind his anger he really couldn’t believe the poison spewing from his mouth. _(even if he was roughly convinced of his accusations)_

Meli took it.

She could have freed her hand, easily so, and retreated back to the party. It was only logical for her to do so - since she had already dumped him and all, yet she stayed. She kept flinching at his every accusation _(which only confirmed them in his eyes),_ but stayed anyway.

That sort of drained his anger - fast.

‘ _What did it truly matter if she loved him as a cousin or a lover? He was set for death -whether in the battle or shortly thereafter. All the better if it was a lesser love, it will hurt her far less as well.’_

However, there was still something indisputable in all that mess: the fact that if she had no desire to marry him, she desired even less so a marriage with another, but her family and societal expectations were going to push for it - sooner rather than later...

_‘She didn’t deserve that.’_

“What I said was deeply uncalled for, please forgive me,” a pause.

“...We both said some very distressing things today, in our upset state, but I dearly hope that we can move past it and readdress them when calmer... after the battle.” he concluded this by promptly returning her the ring.

His words and action seemed to stun Meli beyond belief but at the end of his speech her face had become utterly unreadable to him. Unreadable in all but stubbornness that is.

“Why would you want that?” she asked him slowly. “...I can assure you that, even by then, my opinion is not going to change.” It was plain apparent that she demanded nothing but truth -and not just some vague form of it- but truth based on hard facts.

Leonard tried to hold back, to not allow her words to weaken his resolve. Still, it hurt, far more than he expected, nearly unbearably so. No matter how much he had told himself that he was already resigned, even close to alright with her rejection.

“Because I care about you.” he replied starkly, _(..he was going to be damned if he stuck out his neck and used, ever again -to her- the word love..)_

“...and I want to know you will be safe, happy, and free,” he emphasised the last one, “in case of my demise.”

“Leonard..!” Meli started, clearly distressed, but Leonard couldn’t let her stop him, not when it took all his courage to confess this.

“I’ve already written a will, stating you as my wife. It’s a bit flimsy, evidence wise, but who’s going to check -or dare contest- a private ritual, these harrowing days. It will be enough for you to inher-” a sharp pain to his cheek cut him mid word.

Meli had just backhanded him.

“MELI?” he all but roared in his outrage. He damn sure didn’t deserve such a vastly unprovoked attack.

Meli tried to answer him but the words didn’t seem to come and she burst instead into tears. Leonard felt immediately wrong footed.

“Why?” he tried once again, much softer.

Meli cried even harder.

Not anything like those pretty tears girls used to get their way, (Leonard had seen his share at school); it was downright ugly, fogging her glasses, swelling and reddening her face, while her whole body shook with heartbreaking sobs, and he found himself taken with shock, by her intensity, and all but overwhelmed with tenderness.

The anger was still there _(for damn sure)_ but it was becoming a secondary point, same with the shock, and he disregarded both; giving Meli the softest and most reassuring one-armed hug he could. Meli accepted his touch, but didn’t lean on him -or ease a bit- so Leonard hurriedly located and offered her his handkerchief, without making an attempt to personally dry her eyes.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you, Mel, it wasn’t my intention.” a pause, “This is just a bad case precaution, nothing more...” Meli remained rigid but didn’t get up to leave and Leonard took it as permission to continue.   

“...Nor is it such a huge inheritance anyway, just my trust fund and the three greenhouses I’ve built for you, here on the grounds, just enough...” … “Ouch!”

Apparently, it was a mistake... Leonard wasn’t as unprepared as the first time, yet still the violent shove Meli managed at him, at that crucial point, jostled him a lot _(and not just physically)._ It had nothing on her escalating meltdown, though.

“YOU... YOU...” she spat out, voice breaking like glass. Leonard didn’t know if she was still attempting to hold onto a shard of her impeccable manners or if she just couldn’t find the vile enough words she needed… Either way, she looked utterly terrifying.

_(Hair and glasses askance, nose still red, her eyes bloodshot, almost towering at the moment over him- she looked quite literally like a Goddess of Vengeance)_

Leonard tried to gather his Gryffindor courage.  
“Meli.”

That seemed to be the the catalyst to finally open her floodgates.

“You heartless, cagey, hypocritical tosser! Stop trying to pull the wool all over me. Our marriage was off to you the moment you learned about the battle.” a spasm of consternation or pain.

“You really _truly_ don’t expect to survive this.”

This should have pained Leonard, _-it did hurt-_ but it also freed him - in a lot of ways. _‘Now he could be more honest with Meli, maybe even get a proper goodbye.’_

He got up from the ground.   

“People die in battles, Meli.” he told her very gently but firmly, “...and I’m not exactly a top fighter am I?” a mostly honest rueful smile.

“Do you find it so out of place, for me, to try ensuring that no one will be able to trap you in a marriage you don’t want - and maybe getting a shot at your dreams?” This time he was utterly sincere, giving everything he had in his heart.

For a moment it looked like he had won. Meli looked stricken and taking his words at face value, (maybe even looking like hugging him). It didn’t last for very long.

“Don’t try this with me, again.” There was nothing hysterical or even overtly emotional at Meli’s voice now, just unbending steel.   

“I know you far too well. This is not a ‘just in case.’ You honestly, unshakably don’t expect to survive this...”

“Meli.” He really wished he could find even a single word to defend himself.

Meli just continued on.   

“You aren’t the top fighter indeed,” plain fact, “but you aren’t a trained Auror either. You did more than well enough on those duels to my honour, years ago...” (Leonard -and Meli- blushed)

“I see no reason why can’t you fight from behind the Aurors, offering them backup. I won’t be ashamed of you if you aren’t on the front lines, and neither should you be.”

She sounded so confident, so sure of herself, but he could see the light trembling returning to her and he wanted to take her in his arms and never _ever_ let her go for loving him like this and fighting for him.

“I don’t think it will be possible, in this battle,” he told her with infinite tenderness, “As you saw, our training was hardly for organised situations.”

Meli looked ready to cry, biting her lips and tightening and untightening her fists.

“No Auror would have been allowed to fight with such fatalistic mental state. It would lead straight to disaster,” she insisted, somewhat desperately. “...I know what I’m talking about, I’m a daughter and sister to Aurors, remember.”

Leonard’s urge to kiss her senseless grew. He offered her instead a sad smile.

“Not in this mission, Mel.” _(Indeed, a few spare words from some trainee Aurors had given him more than a few hints regarding their survival expectancy, without Harry and Tom around)_

Meli looked on the verge of breaking once again.  
“Leonard please.”

Leonard was less than a heartbeat away from breaking himself. He turned his heart into pure stone.

“Meli, please. You were the one saying we were over, no matter what may happen.”

Meli looked destroyed, there wasn’t another word for it, then it turned to rage, and she seemed ready to start hitting him again or draw her wand and curse the living daylights out of him.

Leonard wanted her to do it, it was maybe the only way out from the abyss he was falling into - an abyss that made death more than welcome... But Mel was stronger than that, she collected herself and regarded him with dignity.

“You really don’t understand it, Leonard, do you... why I did it. How much you mean to me and why?” She was disturbingly calm. Leonard didn’t dare to pip a word.

“I would have preferred to marry anyone -any of the Twenty Eight heirs, like my mother so wished me to- anyone than you, over the current circumstances. Even Abraxas Malfoy or that spineless worm, Armand Rosier. I would have known what to expect with them...”

That was so outrageous that Leonard couldn’t contain himself.

“Hey...” Meli had stopped even looking his way.

“I would have known my duty and what was expected from me.., a graceful, gentle, unobtrusive presence at his side, giving him as many heirs required, and after all such duties - and any -and all- social requisitions- were over I could retreat back to my garden, maybe with my children... Just like my parents. Nothing ever deeper than this... Nothing that could destroy me.” The rendition was unemotional but heartbreaking.

The only thing giving him half a clue was the mention of her parents, but it still wasn’t enough to give him actual head or tails over this.

“Mel...”

Meli studiously ignored him.

“My relationship with you can never be that... No one ever stood by me like you did, accepting, supporting, and encouraging me - and never ever asking me to change even a little thing... You truly gave me the world back, when it crashed around me.” a tremulous breath.

“But it wasn’t a mutual thing, like I believed... Here and now you showed me that it was just an empty promise. Nothing like allowing me to support you as well, like an equal; you were merely indulging me like a child.” a long pause, while Meli looked like she tried to control her fine trembling. (it didn’t work overtly much).

Leonard was incapable to even breathe.

“I can’t live like that, I can’t bear it. It will be an utter parody, like that of my parents.’ Better to take my chances then with a complete stranger.”  
Right state or not, her voice sounded calm and resolute.

Leonard saw red. Each word of her little speech had burned him like a hot poker, but this went well beyond his endurance. The distance between them all but gone as he grabbed her in his arms.

“Who?” he all but growled to her face.   

A distant, very distant, part of him whispered it was only fair for Mel to find someone else to share her life, but he couldn’t hear it.

...He may have already _distantly_ thought about this, _(...how could he not, he couldn’t bear to think her alone and unhappy...)_ but that was for long after he had descended on his grave. So long as he lived he would rather kill than let another man touch her.

“Who?” Leonard demanded once again, with more force, not leaving her even half a chance to get away.

Meli looked wild eyed and more than a little terrified with his behaviour - one she could have never ever ever anticipated from him, but it wasn’t the only thing, there was something shyly pleased about her, though still uncertain.

“Who?” he asked her a bit more gently. Meli licked her lips.

“Master Herbalist Adnet Robillard, the one who praised and promoted my article in ‘Herbology Today’ some months ago. He researched me, liked his findings, and sent an official proposal for my hand to my parents.” Leonard’s hands tightened even more around her shoulders.

“Did you liked your own findings as well, do you want him?”

‘ _That was the pertinent question, wasn’t it? What Meli wanted. His own desires may run towards hoisting her up, against a tree, lifting her skirt and claiming her before any other man was ever able to; but that was never ever going to happen without her express permission - no matter how mad he may be.’_

_(He felt more than half a wild animal, but wasn’t that far gone to take her by force)_

Meli seemed contemplative again more than anything else.  
(Still, making no move away from his arms)

“He’s thirty four, a very accomplished Herbalist, and comely enough, judging by his picture. Even distantly related to Abraxas Malfoy’s fiancée, to touch things more relevant to my House than me... But, I don’t even know him, how would I want him? Still, he’s the best possible compromise with my mother’s wishes and my own. I could do worse.”

Something relaxed in Leonard with this. _‘She didn’t want this Adnet.’_

“It sounds to me like he’s looking for an apprentice more than a wife...” he pointed out. _He wasn’t the smartest guy with girls, apparently not even with Meli, but a strange idea had started forming in his mind._

Meli shrugged with apparent nonchalance.

“Practically speaking, it’s hardly all that different.” she replied dryly, “Or something I’m dead set against, considering I still require one of those. Professor Beery agreed to supervise my work, not actively mentor me.”

_(still not moving an inch from where she was - his theory seemed to have a certain merit)_

Leonard managed to keep a very straight and innocent face, but it wasn’t that easy. _(...A year or so ago he and Anthony had approached the middle aged professor and informed him they would be very pleased if he took Meli as his apprentice - so long he kept his hands to himself. Professor Beery choose a more distant relationship...)_

However, he couldn’t leave this standing.    

“An Apprenticeship lasts up to five -maximum seven- years, a marriage is meant for life.” Meli had nothing to counter this and Leonard continued.

“I don’t believe you really need his help, you do amazing things all on your own.” Meli blushed.  
“...Still, accepting that you do, what does he gain by marrying you?” Meli glared and Leonard took it again, before she could tell him to jump up a cliff.

“You are beautiful and amazing at Herbology, but he doesn’t know you, as in at all, so what’s his hurry? Your dowry, Longbottom influence, heirs, or something else? ...Maybe his talent has started to wane and he wants to appropriate yours instead, to save his reputation. How much individual recognition are you going to get as his wife?”

Meli looked at him in shock, but it was apparent that at least the final one of his points had found a target. She took a step back.

“Most of those reasons are quite common to people of our station, when embarking in marriage.” her voice was again steely - though she made a face while intoning the word station.

Leonard accepted her silent challenge.   

“Most people aren’t you, Mel, you deserve better and I don’t -won’t- have you making that mistake.” he had a remote awareness of what he was saying but still working with his heart not a settled, conscious decision.

Meli nearly stumbled back and a faint pink washed over her pale cheeks, the challenge to her golden eyes becoming even harder.

“Are you going to stop me, Leonard, or help arrange it to your satisfaction? You’ve shown an incredible attitude for negotiations, tonight.” her soft voice was slightly mocking and it didn’t fit her as there was an underlined hardness behind the usual placid softness.

Leonard knew he had reached the final crossroad.

“I will help you any way you want me to.” he declared and saw her expression closing even more off, preparing for the final strike. He took a deep breath to fortify himself, as even _this_ decision needed courage.

“...I will do whatever you may wish of me, but you will marry Robillard -or any other man- over my dead rotting body.” he concluded his announcement with a feeling of resolute satisfaction.

_He knew he had been led -all the way- Mel wasn’t that subtle, but he wanted this, he wanted her._

There was a whole change to Meli’s face... A smile more wide than anything he had seen before brightened her whole expression, colour gently suffused her cheeks once again, prettier even, and her eyes went from a dull lifeless brass to warm amber under the sun into a single moment. He could have fallen for her all over again just here and now.

Slowly, tentative, like she still couldn’t believe his change, she took the two steps that separated them. Gently, like a feather, she kissed the side of his jaw.  
Leonard shuddered.

But, when he opened his eyes (and he hadn’t even understood that he closed them) her face was again awash with silent tears.

“But it _will be_ over your dead body,” she tells him, in a tiny voice, “...you all but implied there is no way out of this...” and he knows -he knows- this is not done to get her way - she’s really gutted, even by the mere thought of his demise.

Leonard then understood that he could still shatter her.  
That this and only this was the true crossroad.

He could back off all the way and watch her break, all at once, or tell her that he was going to try and stay alive and see her hide in the remainings of her dignity, walk away with a smile, or a kiss, and _then_ crumble a million times over, a piece at the time...

All because no matter how much he loved her he hadn’t trusted her.  
It had taken her _lots_ of work but it had finally sunk into his head.

Leonard neither could -nor wanted- to do that to her.

The risk to her safety remained the same - he still didn’t want Riddle five feet from her - but he was going to irrevocably hurt her anyway, it was better to tell her the truth and let her decide. Meli was strong enough, sensible, and brave -ruthless too- _(he had tasted that)_ and somewhat cunning... She deserved to have the actual bare facts and a chance to make up her own mind.

_(and it was equally possible he had been a bloody coward, believing he kept a hold on the situation, and protecting her, all while he was just as terrified she was going to reject him and turn tail)_

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

“Meli,” Leonard suddenly started, owning up to his decision, “What will happen if a single person betrays a long standing ally of his House, without his House’s prior knowledge and consent? What does tradition say about it?”

He kept his eyes on Meli during the whole question, wanting to make her really understand, but also to memorise this last moment in which she loved him and wanted to be with him while he still could.

Meli understood alright, the horrified widening of her eyes and even her knees just giving way attested to that. Leonard was both grateful and concerned as he held her close, but while her fingers remained painfully hooked on his shoulders her voice was more or less steady as she answered him.

“The Unwritten Rules are very firm about this: If the family choose to support their offending member over the long-standing allies the alliance is most assuredly -unquestionably- over, never to be taken up again, and the offended House has the right to declare Blood Feud, without anyone opposing them, if the betrayal is deep enough...” By the end of the first set of rules Meli had grown even fainter. Leonard transfigured a bench and helped her sit.

Meli’s eyes remained terrified.

“The only thing that can ever repair the standing between the two Houses is if the offending person offers himself to those he wronged and accept their punishment, even up to his death.” A pause, much longer than before.

“Leonard, what have you done?” Meli sounded in anguish, but also unquestionably exasperated.

Leonard winced. He had fought and accepted that he must tell her, had even come to actually want it, but it was most certainly not an easy tale. Still, he was a Gryffindor, time to own up to that.

“You remember that first Hogsmeade battle, a year and a half ago?” he started by the easiest reference. Meli’s sharp, inward breath told him that she recalled it more than enough and Leonard relaxed some with at least _that_ clear between them.

However, Meli was far too agitated to let him continue in that snail pace.

“So, this involves Evans?” her tone was still calm, cool and level, -very much alike her normal cadence- and yet something was slightly off, _edgy._ Leonard was instantly on the defensive.

“He took a Killing Curse for me, Mel.” he put it plainly on the table. “Without thought or any kind of plan, he sure as hell didn’t expect to walk away alive.”

“I never said that he had - much less that he did it to trap you.” Meli’s voice now sounded small, maybe shocked by his bold words, but not sullen or dismissive. She had understood.

Leonard let out a long held breath and continued - _maybe there was a chance they would get through this._

“That last battle, the one before vacation, was even worse...” _\- and he was damn glad Meli had chosen to visit her family, instead of getting down the village with their classmates or worse, by her lonesome._

“...Evans - _Harry_ \- saved me once again - and more importantly my mum - exposing his neck time and again. Then he and Riddle faced Grindelwald, coming up not just alive -unusual as it is- but the clear winners - all before their interruption.”

Very belatedly he noticed a small painful grimace on Mel’s face. Leonard, all of a sudden, remembered that he wasn’t the only one who lost family to the dark bastard... Meli’s godfather had been one of those who tried to stop him, only to fall at his wand. Still, he didn’t dare stop here, to verbally comfort her, he would again get sidetracked -or worse, chicken out- so he tucked her against him and just continued on. Meli seemed to relax some by his action anyway.

“So, by diner's time I had taken my decision. I approached Harry, intending to offer anything - even beg, to get him take Nettie and Mum under his personal protection.”

This time Leonard was far more prepared to notice Meli's flash of hurt, although she did her very best to avoid interrupting him once more.

But Leonard had no intention to let _this_ go. It could cause actual _lasting_ damage.

“Meli...”

“Go on, Leonard, please.” Very unsurprisingly Mel had every intention to avoid this, but her wide eyes showed her true emotions.

Leonard sighed.

“You think I’d forgotten -or worse discarded- our marriage contract? Merlin Mel!” For the life of him he couldn’t hide his bafflement and some asperity.  

“The whole thing happened just to ensure my family’s protection, even outright sheltering, if needs be.” _-‘That and his happiness, but his dad was awesome like that.’_

“I would have been a fool not memorising it, word for word, even if I didn’t care about you -which you know better than to even suggest it-” he leveled her with a look.

Meli hadn’t dropped her eyes from his, indubitably paying attention his words, (nodding and blushing quite fetchingly on the appropriate part) but there was still something uneasy and slightly disbelieving to her stance.    

“But...” she stopped herself from saying anything more but even that much of a continuous protest spoke enough.

“Grindelwald saw me and Mum fighting his men...” Leonard put it dryly. “...If you think I would have willingly brought danger to your door then you don't know me at all.”

_‘Alright, that he could have imparted with a bit smoother.’_

Meli gasped with horror to that particular detail, but -after that initial reaction- she seemed like she very much wanted to oppose his conclusion, loudly and vehemently so. However, she had a better sense than this. In the end; nodding, seeing, and _very_ reluctantly accepting the wisdom and implied care of his act.

“I would have preferred you near me anyway, safe under my family’s ancient impenetrable wards, but I can understand and even appreciate why you took such decision.” another small pause, as she apparently made effort to handle things in a cooler, less emotional manner.

Leonard honestly doubted that even the famous Longbottom wards would have been enough to stop Grindelwald, during a full scale attack.  
It had taken the joined forces of _both_ Tom and Harry to subdue him and he had still gotten away in the end. However, it was only going to upset her her even more if he told her -right at this moment- so he kept that opinion to himself.

“It was for the best, Mel.” Meli sent him one last doubtful look but very obligately returned on the previous subject.

“So, what happened with Evans, was all this...” she made a circular gesture, accompanying the house and grounds, “...part of his demands?”

Leonard couldn't help himself, for all the tense -even deadly- situation, he burst out into gales of laughter.

“Harry demanded absolutely nothing of me, except talking a bit with Alphard to see if there a chance for reconciliation - not even forcing said reconciliation, just a talk.” he explained earnestly the moment he got back his breath.

“But, but...” Meli sounded utterly perplexed about this.

Leonard hid a grim smile and continued, even more earnestly.

 _(...For them to have an actual chance of working out, however small, she needed to_ _drop all those doubts regarding Harry’s intentions and motives and try to understand him even a little bit - and he needed that fast. Maybe even start seeing him as family, like he did, but that was going to take time…)_

“On the contrary, the very moment he realised our family was in danger he set out to do everything in his power -and then some- to protect them. He won't accept to take the Potter name and yet his first instinct was to help us with his whole being.”

“Then how did you ended up in such a huge mess and more importantly with whom?” Meli had slid out from his hold and was now examining him with a furled brow.

Leonard opened and closed his mouth.

“Are you sure it wasn't a trick of some sort?” she insisted in the softest of voices.

“Evans seems utterly genuine, even noble, as he generally appears - and you describe him - but he’s still Tom’s best friend, has been that for years...” she bit her lips, looking down.

“Surely that must mean something, no?” a bit of faint colour washed her cheeks.

Leonard would have bet she meant something far more intense, maybe even approaching the truth, but her upbringing stopped her from outright saying it, maybe even overtly thinking it as in at all.    

He suspected that maybe _that_ was what created that uneasiness in the first place - he still hoped he was wrong.

Still, her very pointed questions were leaving him with very little room to explain things with some cushioning and enough preparation to gradually dispense her disbelief. He needed to be utterly blunt once again.

“Evans -Harry- is dying.” he cut to the chase. “He’s terminally ill. That’s why he’s so reckless with his personal safety, that’s why he gives so much of himself without regard… He wanted to infiltrate Nurmengard alone just to save my father.”

Leonard, much to his embarrassment, found his voice near breaking and Meli slid closer to him and squeezed his arm to offer comfort.

He regarded her much calmer.

“So you see, he doesn’t have a dastardy plan to take our fortune or even to use the Potter influence to launch his political career. He didn’t even approached me in the first place.”     

Meli was looking at him with utter sympathy, but with lingering doubts as well still.

“What kind of illness does he have? He shows not a single known sign or apparent weakness.” a deliberate, slow breath.

“If this is about what I have come to suspect it is, it’s far more valuable than just a simple panacea, even the most potent one in the world.”  

Leonard nearly gulped, not yet daring to confirm anything, this was the harder part to sell.  
_(and it was both a blessing and a curse to be engaged to a girl with the same alliances and so to be able to share everything, even before their marriage)_  

“I don’t really know, we never actually got to talk about it.”

“Leonard!” Meli sounded close to a tizy.

Leonard gathered his guts.

“As I said, I don’t know the absolute specifics but, from the crisis I witnessed, it could be an extreme form of the Sacred Disease tied to his magic. That’s what happened to him...” he continued earnestly.

“He snapped, and it turned into a seizure, losing any kind of bridle to his magic, nearly bringing Hogwarts down all over our heads... If Riddle hadn’t found us in time and calmed him down neither Harry nor I would have survived it.” The mere shadow of this memory send chills down his spine.

Meli couldn’t hide her horror -and light shivers- but remained guarded.  
“Tom was present?”  

Leonard didn’t blame her that scepticism.

Any wizard or witch could involuntary break something, when enraged, and a relatively powerful one to shake a whole room. _‘This wasn’t such a case.’_

“Only at the very end.” a breath,  “...Listen Mel. I pissed him off, pissed him off as hell, but at the end of it it wasn’t about rage, nor anything deliberate. It was Pure Madness. His own magic turning against him, comes close - but even that is hardly accurate. At the midst of the Crisis he wasn’t human but a Force of Nature” he shivered.

Meli looked at him with wide, terrified eyes but still didn’t get it.  
_(How could she?)_

Taking his decision, he recalled every moment of terror he felt that night and used his occlumency training to separate his feelings from the actual memory. Looking Meli in the eye, he conveyed a warning intertwined with regret and offered the modified feelings. Meli took him up on his offer.

-Meli was still going to get traumatised by the experience but without the actual memory to sustain things in her mind she wouldn’t get affected by it for long.- _(...Still, he really hoped she wasn’t going to end up with an inexplicable phobia towards Harry and not even fully understanding why...)_

Unfortunately, in here and now, it was a truly horrifying experience.

Meli gasped, then whimpered, curling in a little ball and trembling like a leaf. Leonard kept caressing her hair and back until she felt better and started clinging to him. Only then he spoke.

“I’m so sorry, Mel, so sorry.” The words were inadequate, as was his worthless self, he regretted it a thousand times.

“It’s alright,” a tiny smile, “I understand.” she managed to squeezed his hand. “I doubt I would have grasped _this_ without help.” her smile became a bit stronger and more confident.   

“I may not have seen what you saw but I doubt that even torture would have that effect on you without visible signs.”

That didn’t ease Leonard’s conscience one bit and he would rather not even consider -much less touch- Meli’s last comment in relation to her.

“I would have prefered to spare you the emotional trauma.” he said somewhat stiffly. Meli sighed.

“I can’t -won’t- say it was a pleasant experience but I much prefer feeling it and being here for you than being spared and closed off to the outside.”  
Once again she squeezed his hand.

“So, what happened next?” Smile back to her full radiance.

Leonard had frankly no idea what he was going to do with her.  
(Though, he still wasn’t a hundred percent about that night either)

“Then it became even weirder...” _(...at least he was going to get some form of amusement out of this part...)_  
“Harry was down for the count and Riddle called on the Life Dept.”

Just like Leonard had predicted this made an immense impression on Meli. Her mouth fell wide open and she looked at him like if he just informed her that the Hogwarts ghosts were suddenly again alive and intent to take over the Houses.

“Tom called the Life Dept?” she still looked at him like he was crazy, “On what grounds?” _‘Indeed that was the thing, wasn’t it…’_

(Taking on the weight of a Life Debt from someone -or even _calling_ it- wasn’t unheard off but it happened from a blood relative -first degree even- that, or a husband/wife... He hadn’t dealt with it, at the time, but Tom and Harry’s situation was truly unique)

However, it didn’t take overtly long to come in terms with it, a long sigh and she was again regarding him calmly.

“We talked about private rituals, I suppose they actually performed one.” her face was beet red but she had acknowledged it. (looking embarrassed but not in any way personally bothered by it, much to his pleasure)

Unfortunately, for Leonard’s peace of mind, he knew for a fact that Tom and Harry became lovers _afterwards_ , so such an explanation didn’t fit - and there was also the matter of Tom’s looks... _(for all his personal denial)_

It wasn’t hugely obvious, but Tom and Harry could pass -if not for brothers- at least for close cousins - and that (just the possibility) creeped the hell out of him. Also, there was the matter of parseltongue (which should have eased him, at least, that any possible relation wasn’t through his own line) unfortunately the fact remained: Tom looked like a Potter -more refined certainly- and without their trademark -cursed- hair, but still a Potter.

 _(...and there was also the matter with the family Grimoire...)_ _  
_ He had seen it, he couldn’t unsee it.

 _It was the stuff of nightmares_ and he neither could -nor wanted- to talk about this -any of this- with Meli, so he switched back at what truly impacted their problem.

“I could feel that Harry was dying and felt like I was dying alongside him… Tom’s calling made it more intense-” a lot, “-but it was already there.”   

Meli muttered something slightly unladylike, that he pretended he didn’t hear, and clutched his hand until it nearly broke them both. Leonard steeled himself to say the rest.

“Riddle informed me that the only thing able to save Harry is the Philosopher’s Stone and asked me if I knew anything about the Flamels’ location…”

Meli hissed out a breath, the confirmation to her suspicions agitating her more instead of relaxing her.

“How could he know _you_ -of all people- could have such information?”

Leonard, on the contrary, relaxed - he didn’t believe Tom had the time for such a scheme, then and there. Also that if he suspected such a thing he would have approached him and forced out the information long before... _‘It wasn’t like he was squeamish with his methods or anything.’_

“I believe he was grasping for straws, that and due to my strong reaction.”    

“Ah.”

That seemed to ease Meli a bit, but the mention of his reactions made her shiver anew, making him feel an utter heel all over again, however he girded his loins and confessed the most damaging thing of all.

“I didn’t just offer him the address to find them but also the use of The Cloak.” _‘Which Tom had yet to return -not that he really expected him- if only he had actually given it to Harry instead of keeping it for himself…’_

That caused his girlfriend one of her stronger reactions yet, nearly stumbling off the bench. Only the fact she was still within reach saved her from a nasty accident.

“Why?”

Leonard smiled mirthlessly.

“Why would I do that -when the location wasn’t truly under Fidelius and there was a possibility I could get away with it?”   

Meli blushed again scarlet, at the pointing to her seemly dishonour, but nodded nonetheless. Leonard sighed.

“It wasn’t a matter of pure honour, that much I can assure you...” a grim smile, “Riddle looked desperate and desperate people will do anything. I would rather leave a calling card and pay the price than get away with two people's lives to my conscience.” ‘ _Strangely, now he understood Harry a bit better.’_

Meli was looking at him like he hung the moon and the stars together, cuddling close once again. Leonard tried to resist -for a moment- but he broke, anyway. Kissing her like he would die if he stopped. _(- still, what a way to go!)_

Meli responded with equal fervor _(this time everything feeling -right- and rather feverish)_ and Leonard felt like losing his mind -if he didn’t stop now he never would... He took his mouth from hers and it was one of the most difficult things he did in his life.

“You… understand that I’m still in the same deadly predicament... and it’s still equally possible I’ll lose my life? ...Do you?”

Meli regarded him solemnly.  
“I do.” a moment’s pause, that felt like she was tasting the words.

“I do understand,” a smile. “But this time you aren’t resigned to it. You will fight.-” A note of steel.

“-and I will fight with you. You only need to survive the battle, we’ll do the rest together.” she took his hands.

“I will beg, plead, scrape - whatever I have to, but no one will take you from me.”

Leonard was alarmed, amazed - and yes aroused - by this new -take charge- attitude of his Meli, still…

“I don’t want you to beg on my favour, Mel, much less scrape... You deserve better.” he tried to leave her hands after one last squeeze.

Meli’s look immobilized him in his place.   

“It’s my choice, Leonard. -I’ve already chosen you- we are together in this.” a sweet but firm look that turned shrewd.

“Unless you are telling me that you intend to kneel down and allow them to kill you without a single protest?” The flash in her eyes was this side of demonic.

Leonard was genuinely offended.

“Of course not, I have every intention to plead for my life and offer any possible reparation, even before today. I don’t want to die and leave you, never did.”

“Good.” Meli’s plain relief was even more insulting but maybe somewhat explainable after today. _Still,_ he regarded her sternly.     

“They are good people but rather old fashioned,” (meaning medieval at times)  
“It may work, it may not. I’m responsible for putting their lives in danger and losing them their most precious possession - it’s quite a lot to let go. ” There was no point to have false hopes.

Meli was undaunted.

“It will work.” pure steel, “They are indeed old fashioned but easily embarrassed about that fact, it’s going to work strongly at our benefit. Also, you mentioned reparations, I have some ideas about that..”

Leonard had never seen Meli at full scheming mode before (looking startlingly alike her terrifying mother - of which she had already inherited her harsh beauty, though usually not presenting it to that extent due to her sweet disposition) and it should have repulsed him - or at least caution him. But, very surprisingly, he found himself feeling deeply fascinated with that new facet to his beloved.

“What kind of reparations?” he was fascinated but not an idiot.

Meli licked her lips, suddenly looking unsure.

“I’m going to ask Tom to return the stone when he’s done, that will go a long way in assuring the Flamels he -we- mean no harm.”

Leonard blanched.  
“You will ask..?” he could hardly say it.

Meli just looked at him like it was nothing, her earlier uncertainty masked almost too well.

“Of course, I will. You can’t ask forgiveness for theft without the stolen property, can you?” innocent eyes.

“Meli!” Leonard groaned. Meli continued in the same airy tone.

“However, we are human, Tom may be disinclined to give up such a treasure. In that case I may be forced to remind certain influential people about an old scandal. I believe he will find the consequences to this far too unpleasant.”

Leonard was so frozen up with terror he could barely speak.  
“You’re crazy!”

Meli regarded him with the same artificial calm and confidence, she even managed a small smile.

“Hardly, just ready for anything. Things are going to get embarrassing, alright, _very_ embarrassing for me; but it’s going to be disastrous for Riddle.” she explained with such nonchalant simplicity that Leonard started having serious questions about the state of her mind.

“If this happened to one of our classmates -anyone other than Tom- it would have been nothing: ‘boys being boys’ and all that. But to Riddle, an aspiring politician, it will be the death toll to all his political ambitions, maybe for decades.... So, yes, I believe he will have no other choice but to cooperate with us.” a pause, full of confidence.

Leonard outright trembled at this point, he just didn’t know if it was more out of rage at her utter disregard for her own life or sheer terror.

“He will kill you.”  

Meli’s immediate reaction was again that of nonchalance.  
“Let him. I already knew he was dangerous, let’s see how far he’s going to take things.”

Then she got a good look at his grave expression and her lower lip started trembling, like a child.

“You mean this, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Leonard had gone for the brutal truth, there was no margin for anything less.

“You have really no idea how dangerous and ruthless is he... Back at the school he shows some restraint, though not much.” he recalled what he heard about Walburga and winced with compassion, _(- funny how different were his feelings, even for her, when he pictured Meli in the same place…)_

“...and he will show even less, with you posing such a serious threat.” a pause, “Meli, he’s going to murder you.”

A thousand questions seemed to pass from Meli’s eyes, but she held back - probably weighed down by the impossible situation. Finally, her expression hardened and and he steeled himself for the parting words.

“So be it.” it was said quietly, but anything but lacking conviction.

It was Leonard’s time to nearly fall out the bench- and he still wasn’t sure if he heard right.

“Meli?” _‘No, there was absolutely no way he heard that right.-’_

Meli regarded him back, not budging an inch.

“He’s already going to indirectly murder you, merely by leaving you to face the consequences all alone, I’m not going to stand by for that. I’m not going to lose you.-” Unwavering look, passionate voice, tightened fists.       

Leonard was plain speechless.

“If he’s so set to reach his ambitions over dead bodies let him walk over my own as well.- He’s going to find that neither pleasant nor easy.... This time he’s not against little Melissa, third year Gryffindor, but _Lady_ Melissanthe of - _House-_ Longbottom.-” she continued talking, with absolute conviction.

Again, Leonard couldn’t find words for all his terror (and awe). He should be scolding her, for blithering nonsense, to having no idea about what she dared to talk about, unfortunately it was far from the case.

Meli had certainly known death (Elpiniki Doge had died, practically in her arms, at the first Hogsmeade battle) and no one was ever going to dispute her awareness about Riddle’s true character or power. He had no idea how to deal with her.

“...Things will be a bit differe...” … “MMM…”

Having no other way coming to his mind, Leonard reacted entirely by pure instinct, grabbing Meli by the scruff of her neck and pressing her face against his sternum to stop her talking. Meli didn’t put much of a fight.

“Hush, Meli, hush. Please. Don’t do this to me, to us. I will find a way to survive this, I swear I will. How could I do otherwise, when you love me so, just trust me. Please.” his arms had winged around her, holding her close, close enough that’s it melded her to his body, if it was at all possible. After a tiny breath Meli’s arms did the exact same.

They held each other tightly, for long -long- moments, trembling with fear, love, and desperation, Meli’s tears wetting his pullover and - _maybe-_ a couple of his her shiny hair.

Finally, Meli tipped back her head and regarded him once more.  
“What about Evans?”

Leonard was utterly startled. It wasn’t a question he wanted to contemplate.  
“What about him?”

Meli sent him a long-suffering look.

“Evans -Harry- the bloke you got into all that trouble to save... Surely he must have some input about this?”

Leonard gulped down and very carefully freed her from his arms.  
“Not really - and I prefer to keep it that way.”

Meli’s eyes flashed. It was an extremely dangerous look.   

“Godric’s sword Leonard! Why not? You opened your house, your family to him, that ungrateful is he?” her nostrils all but spat flames.

Leonard felt panic crawling up his spine. Meli looked ready to sprint away and give Harry a firm piece of her mind. Hastily, he raised his palms at chest level.

“He doesn’t know, Mel, not one of them does. Riddle didn’t bother to ask how I knew and I didn’t confide this, even to Alphard. Even Mum believes that we’ll deal with it, as a family, after we have my father back.”

“Why Leonard?” Meli didn’t look placated and had crossed her arms under her chest _(which was rather distracting),_ glaring for all it was worth.

Leonard rubbed tiredly at the back of his head.

“You know why.” he sent her a meaningful look. “The most I could have managed would have been to endanger other lives, much cleaner to handle it by myself.”

“ _Leonard!”_ Meli sounded at the very end of her patience. Leonard sighed.

“...I can’t talk to Harry, he’s the kind of guy to fall right on his sword to protect the family - I wasn’t kidding you when I said he tried to invade Nurmengard - all by himself - to save Dad.” he could feel his breath hitch, his throat reflexively closing at this even after knowing it for days now.

“...Apparently, it was his way to make amends, after nearly killing us... I have it all confirmed from Sam Diggory himself, not Alphard or one of the guys. Tom himself now got personally involved with the war effort, persuading Ministry’s top officials to proceed with the battle - not when they originally planned but now - and he did it only to avoid such a suicidal scenario.”

Meli looked at him quite stunned, not exactly showing disbelief towards his words, but hardly understanding his position either.

“On the very contrary, from what you told me, it looks exactly like you need to talk with Harry about this… and do so. _Now_.” a look, full of conviction. (while she subtly used Harry’s first name as added pressure)  

“...He’s hardly such a simple person to act totally without thinking - his reputation calls him the ultimate Slytherin, just like Riddle -and even if he’s not and it’s just an exaggeration- if Tom is _indeed_ so _utterly_ committed to preserve his life, then he will be all the more ready to cooperate with us into finding a solution.” she gifted him a small, earnest smile.

Her words made sense. _‘Logically speaking this was a fine plan, however…’_

“You don’t know all of it, Mel, hardly even - and it’s not even just that I’m sworn to him and my whole magic protests at the mere idea of putting him in harm’s way to preserve myself.” Involuntarily, his hand closed around the small, blue phylactery, gifted to him by Harry.

_‘Definitely so much far more than this…’_

Meli was the very picture of affronted disbelief, her rosebud mouth shaped like she had ate something unpleasant.

“You’ve sworn himself to him - and put it on faith?” her voice was painfully shrill.

“...Without firstly ensuring he was reciprocally bound, as well, and actively giving his protection? Are you _insane,_ Leonard?” she looked utterly exhausted and yet on the verge of another meltdown.

Leonard felt himself growing annoyed, maybe because she had his - _exact-_ number.

“There is not a question if I have his protection or not, I’ve already told you how far he’s prepared to with this.” he assured her somewhat misleadingly, “But…” he considered how to explain.

“Here...” he shoved the blue phylactery right at her hand, “...Tell me what you can sense from this?”

Meli, for once, obeyed without question and closed her eyes as she opened herself to the presented magic... A couple moments later her lips parted in a silent -O- of awed surprise.

“Oh!” she breathlessly exclaimed, as she eventually emerged from her light trance, “That was incredible! Did Harry make that for you?” she appeared to have forgiven him, at least some.

Leonard couldn’t help a wry smile.

“He did, three days ago.-” he couldn’t help feeling a small wave of satisfaction as this made impact, and continued on before she could in anyway recover.    

“For me, Mum and Nettie, Tom and the rest of his friends.”

The sheer awe hadn’t left Meli’s face with that new impact, if anything it increased. Still, there was added befuddlement, gales of it, and a very good dose of fear… All in all she looked ready to faint - barely able to keep herself upright.

Leonard supported her, as best he could, albeit it still took her several moments to recover enough and start to question him.

“Is he insane, doing such a thing right before such a battle? - No, forget that, how is it possible for him to do that and still be able to participate, even in the drills, much less emanate such kind of power?” she looked nearly freaked out.

Leonard actively understood her mystification, as even the most powerful of their numbers would have needed quite a while to recover, much less actively use their magic…

“The only thing I know for sure is that Mum brew a potion to restore his levels much faster than it would have normally happened.” _(...which granted, happened much faster than even his mum had anticipated, but it hardly mattered in the here and now)_

“I see.” Meli looked only slightly less shocked than before.

“And yet I didn’t tell you this to grow awed and consequently accept my allegiance, there is another -far more pressing- point.” he sounded stilted. He felt completely terrified.

Meli must have sensed his trepidation, for she appeared sympathetic and on guard all at once.

“Tell me.” she took his hands in silent support.

Her strength and unwavering support bolstered Leonard a great deal, settling him enough to speak about the most embarrassing part.

_(-He may find the whole thing deeply upsetting, (..meaning scary as fuck..) both as avoided and befallen consequences, but he was going to be damned if he left her exposed to such danger due to withheld information-)_

“Riddle didn’t take Harry’s initiative all that well.” he started somewhat haltingly.

“It went very ugly, very -very- fast.” a true understatement, “They had a row to end all rows, demolishing the ballroom and shaking the whole house in the process, all but crashing down the wards.” it wasn’t even an exaggeration.

Meli looked horrified.

“Merlin! What kind of guests are they? But why allowing them such freedoms in the first place?”

Leonard couldn’t hide a pained grimace.

“To be utterly fair with Riddle he repaired the damages first thing, as for the why… Would you have honestly interfered between an enraged Riddle and Harry?”

‘ _A pair of enraged Erumpents would have been easier!’_

To her credit, Meli paled, then blushed.  
“Point.”

Leonard allowed himself to marginally relax.

Meli had finally seen what he had been trying to tell her from the very start... _‘There was no way she would would push about telling the guys now.’_

“But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t speak with them.” Meli quite abruptly changed her mind, practically choking him out any relaxing or compliant thought.   

“We should be very careful, waiting just for the right moment, but definitely talk with them nonetheless.” she dared to look at him imploringly with her large golden eyes.

Leonard wanted to hit his head against a stone wall.    

Meli had understood absolutely nothing, it was like his words hadn’t registered with her at all.

“...You don’t get it, do you?” he nearly shouted. “You think it’s just about Riddle’s cruelty and domineering ways, but it’s so much worse... Did you forget Harry’s own issues that fast?” he really trembled now, he couldn’t contain it. So he got up, in a bid to control his agitation.

“Leonard?” Meli sounded concerned but still not alarmed enough.

Leonard ignored her.

“Those three days had been hell!” he practically spat out the words. “...and no, I’m not exaggerating here.” a breath.

“...Harry tried his very best to appear like there was nothing wrong -just business as usual- but he was truthfully ready to snap, constantly on edge. Riddle and he downplayed it a lot, in front of the Aurors, but they circled each other like feral wolves, and when they duelled, in supposed training -extra ones from those they did with the Aurors- they did their utmost possible to tear each other into pieces.” another breath.

“It was terrifying.”

“...Weren’t those two gone, at the hospital wing -half a dozen times- because they overdid it at _‘training’_ \- and that excluding the first time they ended up there?” Meli tried to sound skeptic but it was apparent she had started to freak out.

Still, freaked out or not, she put a comforting hand onto his shoulder.

Said comforting hand really helped. Leonard hadn’t even noticed her approach, he had been _that_ distracted with those -so- troubling memories... Still, he regarded her with utter solemnity, he wasn’t going to let her minimise this and discard the danger.

“Yes, but it wasn’t the same, this time they were _vicious_...” It wasn’t the word he’d chosen that finally started giving Meli a clue, it was the tone. Meli paled.

“I think I understand now, I’m sorry you had to live through this.” she squeezed his shoulder even tighter.

Leonard wanted to groan with despair.

Meli looked at him with such love and honest concern, but he feared much of it was pity rather than compassion.

‘ _How could it be compassion when Meli still didn’t have an actual understanding of what really they have to deal with?’_

She was alarmed and afraid, but still not nearly enough.

He needed to fix this.

“It was bad, no argument to this, but it's over. I’m way more concerned with what’s going to follow...” a pause, letting her digest this.

“...I have no idea how they managed to go from freshly reconciled to once - _again-_ ” (his very voice betraying his complete bafflement and freaking out by this scary development) “-murderously enraged with one another - even worse than before - all in a morning spent with _Aurors_ no less. But they did -you saw it too- and I’m utterly petrified with terror over how it's going to end up when the last guest is gone.” A look, directly into Meli’s eyes to leave her not the slightest doubt regarding his words.

“..I’m just praying that it's not going to end up with my house destroyed -or worse- when they are done with their current fight.”

Meli hadn’t interrupted him once and stayed silent for a good while after. Her face was guarded and nearly void of emotion.

“I understand.” her voice was steady too, if barely so. A pause.  
“...Did I understand wrong that Harry's fits are induced purely out of wrath?” the barest crack.

Leonard sighed, he would have spared her this -if possible- but, as things were, he was grateful she had finally understood.

“No, Mel, you understood right.” he considered about adding something more, but in the end he discarded it, with another sigh.

Meli swayed, her colour not just slightly off but outright green.

“You mean there may have been a full blown crisis, today.” It was more statement than question. For the first time, ever, it looked like she was actually considering bolting for the hills.

Leonard should have been pleased with this, it was what he had worked so diligently for, to keep her safe. It did please him, in a grim way, but it was edged with sadness and bitterness.

However, none of those emotions -or wishes- were going to make him lie to her - to inspire/ensure a certain reaction - it wasn't what he wanted. _(..misdirection and/or avoiding to mention some things was the furthest he would go..)_ Full out hypocrisy wasn't part of his nature.

“I don't think so. There was a dangerous moment, I'm not going to lie about this, but it had nothing on the night of the explosion, Harry was ten times more enraged and terrifying than today.”

That was nearly too much for Meli. Her face looked like someone had thrown her at a railway and Hogwarts Express was speeding unerringly towards her.

“...More enraged?” It was an incredulous whisper, like Meli was trying to fit it on her mind and nearly failing. Then she fastened her wide eyes at his face.

“What could have been so infuriating, coming from you of all places?” her curiosity seemed to have mostly won over her terror, for the moment.

Leonard dearly wished for earth to swallow him up. He was anything but proud for his then assumptions -or some other parts of it- and the very least thing he could bear now was having Meli grow ashamed of him.

“Mel...”

Meli seemed to read him, for a kind smile formed to her face.

“You don't have to tell me now, if you don't want to.” she squeezed his hand.

Leonard managed a week but genuine smile.

“...But I still believe you need to talk to Harry, as soon as possible.”

Just like that, any kind of relief Leonard felt was vaporised, he longed once again for the nearest stone wall, to bash his brains to.

“MELI!” he all but shouted.

There was a minute flash of intense hurt but, other than that, Meli didn't flinch nor backed off from her stubborn expression.

“Think about it,” she insisted. “You want to take the problem all on your own, to avoid a crisis, but what is going to happen if the cost is indeed your life? Everything you are afraid of what will fall right to your family’s - on your mother's, your nearly freed father’s, and your little sister's - heads.” Her eyes did their own insisting as well.

Leonard was incapable of uttering a single word, hardly even able to breathe. This possibility was worse that his very worst nightmares and he had no idea how to escape this terrifying picture, of the asphyxiating feeling of walls closing around him from everywhere.

Unfortunately for him Meli took his shock for stubbornness.

“...Harry deeply regards you.” she took it again with that gentle insistence, “You are one of his people. -That much is apparent with the protective amulet that you showed me, created by his very life-force and magic. This is not a political liking, much less just tolerance, this is blood-deep...” Meli's voice outright vibrated with her passion.

“Meli, please.” he managed to choke out, raising a pleading hand, all but crashing onto the conjured bench.

Meli's mouth instantly snapped shut and she looked at him with great concern.

“I'm alright, Mel.” he told her, at last, when he gathered his wits. “And you are right, there is no other option but to talk to Harry about this -Merlin help us all- I just hope everything will turn out alright.”

Meli gave him her most proud smile.

“It will.- If Harry is who you think he is, it will.-” she squeezed his shoulder.

“I will be with you all the way.” she repeated her earliest words.

Leonard couldn't help himself, he beamed his widest smile. Not even in his wildest dreams would he have hoped Meli would mean _that_ , after learning _Everything_.

“Thank you, Meli.” voice choking him once again, he took both her hands in his and kissed them with his whole soul. Meli turned crimson.

“Nothing to thank for me here, Leonard.” she chastised him gently. “Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia. Haven't you figured out that, yet?” and she blushed even harder, for uttering part of the traditional marriage oath.

Leonard blushed as well, but he managed a somewhat cocky smile.

“I will never tire of hearing this, you know.” He kissed her left hand once more.

“...But you don't need to doubt -or worry- regarding Harry. Everything else may grow perilous, but Harry is indeed all that I told you about, that and more, you'll see,” he assured her.

Meli examined his face, then nodded slowly. She was going to give Harry a chance, for all that _not inconsiderable_ problem.

Leonard cleared his throat.

“...just please, try not to throw your lineage and connections at Tom's face, not even if he becomes difficult. This is not a matter he will take halfway calmly...” he cautioned her in the most careful way.

From the flash at Meli's eyes the caution was indeed needed.

_(There was still enough buried rage to her, that a part of her would have welcomed a form of pay up, even against her basic unpretentious nature)_

“I will do as you ask.” she replied formally. “But only because you asked it.” A softer, more intimate whisper.

Leonard took to kiss her hand, once again, but Meli stopped him, putting a finger to his lips.

“Still, I would like to hear the whole story,” she put forward without preambles, “...you told me some things, but I'm not sure if it was half the picture - or less... At what exactly am I walking into? How am I expected to behave?”

Just like that, Leonard’s heart plunged.

_‘She was reconsidering, or at least weighing her options - she had to be.’_

“Walk with me...” he said at least. He got up, offering her his arm, all while hiding a weary sigh.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Leonard was surprised to discover that night had fallen for good, while they were occupied with their talk, but it wasn't an utterly illogical oversight. The enchanted light fixtures, up the trees, were creating a far more intense lighting than the fairies ever could. _(for safety reasons more than anything else)_

...and he had distracted himself for long enough with lighting and trees, it was time to face up the music.

“I wasn't kidding you about being Dark Lords - at least for Riddle - Harry is a Grey one...” Meli didn't react to this, -much- just held his arm even tighter.

“It's not just words, at least for Riddle, he lives the part... His followers call him: _‘‘My Lord,’_ ’ instead of his name, at least when he's annoyed with something.” Meli didn’t interrupt, as they walked, but kept squeezing his arm somewhat fierce.

“He even punishes them - and that included me, on one occasion.” He admitted the most embarrassing part.

That had a _very_ different effect on Meli, stopping her in her tracks and making her look at him beyond concerned.

“He did _What?_ When?” her voice had taken a sharp -dangerous- edge and she insistently took in his face and form, like she expected to see signs of torture. Leonard blushed with sheer embarrassment. _(..and a tiny, negligent amount of pleasure..)_

“It was during the train ride.” a pause, at which Meli didn't look all that reassured. “I'm alright, Mel - and I was alright even right afterwards... It wasn't actual torture, just the hallucination of an uncomfortable swim for some long minutes... Nothing I _really_ couldn't handle here.”

Meli looked even angrier, if at all possible.  
“He drowned you.” it was a quiet hiss.

Leonard started getting terrified - the way Meli looked right now she could even go and accost Tom about it... He needed to nip this to the bug.

“Meli, no. Nothing of the sort. It was just a - _very-_ cold immersion and a brisk front crawl, nothing worse.” A serious look, “Not even for a second did I felt like my life was in actual danger and at the end of it we were just very tired, hardly aching...” A small shrug,  
“...Honestly, I was very surprised it was just that and nothing worse, and the others were even more so. Tom himself admitted he spared us so due to Harry.”

Meli looked calmer, after this long explanation, but just barely.  
“The others?” she asked archly.

Leonard was grateful for the shift in subject.  
“We were six.” he offered, without volunteering anything more.

Meli looked half terrified/half impressed.  
“He held six people simultaneously, under a psychogenic curse, for five minutes?”

Leonard couldn't help a flash of irritation.    

“Seven actually,” he added with some spite. “Come now, Meli, you can't be all that surprised, you saw his power yourself.”

Meli bit her lips.

“I did.” A pause, the terrified look returning to her face. “But _seven_ minutes? I don't care about his power levels, or that it - _supposedly-_ wasn't torture, it was too much. You were in his service for less than a _day,_ what possible reason could he assumable had to punish you so?”

Leonard sighed.

“I'm not in his service.” he made a face, for the intentionally incendiary comment. “I'm sworn to Harry, it's a bit different.”   _(and Harry will never consider it that coldly)_

Meli raised her eyebrows, the challenge implicit if mute.

“Harry see us as people, friends -family- before a commodity. Riddle does that only through Harry. You need to observe it up close to understand.” a pregnant pause,

“He wouldn't have lifted a finger without apt reasoning.”

Another pause, while Meli digested this, and Leonard preparing the nailing point.

_‘He wanted her away from such scenes, more than anything, but that didn’t mean he was all eager to have her report them at the Aurors...’_

“But Riddle had every right to what he did, he was justified. I would have flattened anyone daring to do that to me - to us.” He paused, feeling completely exposed - for telling her far too much.

Meli had was looking at him with _huge_ eyes, the implication not lost to her.    

_(...and yes, the knowledge that he had done that -to Harry- embarrassing him well beyond belief...)_

However, Leonard's torture wasn't over yet. Meli was - _still-_ looking at him.

“What..?” Leonard flushed, worse than an overripe tomato.

Meli sighed.

“Alright, I'm not going to ask.” She offered a small smile.

Leonard heaved a tiny sigh of relief.

Then Meli's eyes turned sharp once again. “What else? You wouldn't have been in such an anxious state if there was just this.”

Leonard sighed, heavily this time, and went for broke.

“...He may not be as bad, as say great-great-great grandmother Célestine, but the books he provided -to learn how to destroy Inferi- were frankly terrifying and not strictly restricted to just the destroying part, if you know what I mean.”

_(...That admittance could sent them -all- to Azkaban.)_

That appeared to shock Meli a great deal, shocking and nearly terrifying her... She did a so fast double take she misstepped, stumbling right in his arms.

“I-inferi?” his voice was this side of barely controlled frigid, “...Following in Gran's Célestine footsteps?” it was difficult to say what frightened her more of the two.

Leonard caught her and continued in an utterly nonchalant tone.

“Hardly that bad. I, of course, ordered her portrait - as well the others - to not make any contact with them, but it's still just a matter of time.” _(lightness aside, that issue indeed concerned him)_

“Oh!” Meli, at this point, was glaring daggers. Her pretty golden eyes taking on a flint sheen.

“...and you believe -or want me to believe- that someone with that much raw power -and so dark inclinations- will be content to wait and build a political career instead of merely taking over after dealing with the competitor?” her tone utterly snippy.

Leonard could hardly blame her for this, not even about the scoffing voice, he had thought long and hard into the same lines. He only had hope.

“It will be hardly easy taking over, as you put it, but I believe it's a part of his pact with Harry, dealing with things the political way...” it was the only thing he had.

Meli looked far from entirely reassured.

“...And I was a first rate witness, of the power this may hold. But Leonard,” a look, “Even regular marriages sometimes fall... going as far as separation and divorce… we both know this… What will happen if things end like that?” There wasn’t a single doubt that she was earnest.

Leonard replied with equal honesty.

“If things end up just like that -and Tom decides to make a violent play about taking over our world- I haven't the slightest doubt that Harry will stand directly opposing him and I will stand with him - even if it’s means that the first curse he will send, to take down Harry, will take me instead.” he couldn't put it any more clearly.

Meli had turned white.  
“I see.”

Slowly though, her colour returned - more intense even... She, once again, looked ready to slap him.

“I suppose that this is my cue to scram away?” Her voice was again utterly soft but with a dangerous edge that raised the hair on his arms.

“Mel.” He very carefully didn't step back.

“If you want me gone you could just said so... I didn't need that passive/aggressive back and forth to force the point, or to scare me away, I can handle myself.” Then her eyes narrowed to slits.

“...Nor did I needed such an elaborate emotional blackmail, as warning, to not go to my father about Riddle’s escapades. You are part of his circle, you fall and rise with them, I get it. You didn't need to press the point so much.” Her eyes pinned Leonard in place like a bug.

Leonard felt colour rising to his cheeks and sweat dampening his skin - for Meli had been spot on at least one part: He truly didn't want her gone -not if she didn't want herself gone- but he very much wanted her to keep what he told her only to herself. Riddle's acts -one at a time- may get overlooked, but not all put together - especially not with Grindelwald around, a living example of how wrong things could go.

“I don't want you gone, Mel,” he confessed from the deepest part of himself.  
_(whatever it was worth he really meant it)_

Meli appeared to believe him, her gaze softening and her lips parting, but only for a tiny moment.

“Try again.” He could bet that her tone was intentionally dismissive.

Leonard couldn't help a spark of anger.

“You asked to hear absolutely everything, nothing bared.”

“Right, and you hurried to comply by informing me that you will die for Harry, while it took me close to an hour to convince you to try and _live_. I really couldn't find a better endorsement.”

Leonard blushed a bit.

“I didn't mean it like that... Yes, Harry has my allegiance and I would die for him -if I had to- but I would happily die to protect you as well - and far more importantly: _I want to live to be with you_ . However, more than anything else, I want you _happy, healthy and alive_ \- and being around me _-and yes around them-_ may very well compromise that.”

_‘How much more clearly did he need to put it?’_

Meli at this point looked equally fond and exasperated.

“Leonard, my love, you are utterly insufferable!” The loving tone and endearment overshadowed not at all the deadly seriousness of her tone.   

“...I faltered only a little -and for something utterly horrifying- and you were ready to brush me off, like what we have -our love- meant nothing... Forgive me if I'm neither thrilled nor willing to accept it.” She crossed her arms.

Leonard had the strange combined urge to smother her in kisses and just smother her period.-

“I'm not asking you to be thrilled just to consider what exactly you are willing to put up to be with me...You say you are scared, but maybe you aren't scared enough.” he sent her his most serious look.

“You will be putting yourself under Riddle's power, like I do - like all of us are doing. He may have gone soft, during my punishment, but it's hardly an all-time assurance of continuous such behaviour, of no other _harsher_ punishments in the future… He could be dishing out Unforgivables for all I know.” The last words were edged with a note of hysteria that Leonard couldn't honestly control.

Meli, on the contrary, looked fairly alarmed, even terrified, but not yet hysteric.

“Do you know this for a fact, have valid reasons to be suspicious, or is it merely your worse fear?” she asked him very earnestly, only half challenging.

Leonard sighed.

“The only concrete facts I have is the fear of his followers, before our punishment, and their sheer relief afterwards. No way they normally get away with a slap on the wrist.” a pause.

“That and their near panic during the days of the fight.”

Meli looked faintly green, but still thinking things over.

“It sounds concerning but not unequivocal.” she concluded bravely.

Leonard at this point was ready to cry.

“This is not just about Riddle, but Harry as well.” at Meli's startled look he laughed, it wasn't entirely pleasant. _(nor entirely sane)_

“...I may trust him with my life, respect him like no other, near revere him as a matter of fact, but you think it's not humiliating to know that any clemency I may get from Riddle -any kind of advancement in this group- will be only out of Harry's favour...” a tiny pause, as Meli's visage looked stormy enough - and he needed to point this out without offending her.

“You, however, have no personal connection to him, nor a pressing reason to get involved, so imagine how humiliating it is going to be, in the long run, having to deal with that problem.” He hoped his death was going to be a swift one.

“...No pressing reason?” Meli sounded faint with surprise and it was anything but a good thing for him. Rage shimmered in her face, at her utter stillness - other than her clenching and unclenching fists that's it.

Stormy was currently a _very_ poor understatement, regarding her state.

“I should have gone, right this moment,” she hissed at him, from beneath her teeth, “Merlin couldn't have explained why I don't.... just yet.” a breath - and she seemed more in control of herself, not less angry though.

Leonard gulped. - She may not have slapped him, _this time,_ but her dark _-dark-_ look promised much _-much-_ worse.

“...If you ever _-ever-_ again presume to tell me what to _-think-_ I'm going to leave and regard you as dead for the rest for my life.-” she wasn't kidding him.

“I thought you were different.” Leonard would have preferred the slap.  
_(or outright knocking him out)_

“Mel.” _(Yes, he was that idiot!)_

“Please Leonard, I've heard what you had to say. You will hear me out as well.-” her tone was chillingly formal. Leonard nodded, frozen to his bones.

“I don't know if you mean half of what you told me, or if everything was just an over-exaggeration -you never lied to me before- but I want to know something...”

Leonard was deeply offended.  
“I never lied to you.”

Meli's eyes narrowed to slits.

“No? ...I don't know if you really hate your situation that much, I doubt if it's actually targeted at Harry, not it's such an outdated system: Small Houses and people tying themselves to a larger House, or a powerful Lord, out of mutual benefit. That game happens no matter what, hardly a shame. You just choose the most traditional route possible,” an uncompromising look, calling out his bullshit.

“And yes, I know it was your doing…Personal feelings aside -even a publicly stated opinion- of said system aside.” a breath, while her eyes dared him to deny this. “This wasn't an extortion you accepted or a covering to save your pride. I was wrong to even suspect it.”

“...No way Evans would have known to demand this - and yet have such huge gaps in his knowledge.... Riddle most probably, but you would have slit your belly, like a Japanese Samurai, before giving him your allegiance - but you offered it to Harry, out of your own volition, even with their bond… I don't know the complete story here, nor your reasoning, but I would be hardly pressed to believe it was involuntarily, or that you regretted it already.” far too knowing look.

“I hope that someday you will tell me.” Softer, less intense, but still gutting him.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

  _{...Indeed, he had chosen this, but how could he really explain it? ...The bare acts themselves were only a part._

_How to explain the sheer desperation that eased with the other's support? ...That instant unwavering succour that offered everything, asking for nothing?_

_More importantly, how to explain to her that Harry wasn't an all powerful figure, but someone that needed them, -needed them desperately- needed a family and blood connection, even if he had hardened himself by the clear absence and so wouldn't allow himself any acknowledgement._

_How to explain an open heart that instantly latched and genuinely loved his mother and sister (even himself) if only because it was ready to love and responded to the first hint of familial affection he had known in his life?_

_(Leonard didn't have it clearly spelled out to him, but he knew what he knew)_

Even if others, -close allies- more experienced in life, told him that he was taken for a fool he wasn't going to change his mind.

_Harry was family!}_

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Leonard didn't dare to speak about any of this, not now. But Meli had taken his lengthy silence for stubbornness.

“...What I also know here, -beyond my knowledge of you- beyond the little bit I have observed of Evans over the years -beyond his very reputation even- is that there is no way this man-” a pause, while she looked at him straight to the eye.

Leonard wasn't able to breathe - out of awe to her _sheer_ tenacity.

“-This man who faced the entire Auror Command -not backing down- for a matter of principle, would have kept you chained to his service -even oath bound- against your will, it will be a self-cancellation, a nullification of everything he stands up for.- No, I believe your only problem is with Riddle.” Another _far_ too knowing look.

Leonard had started to sweat, he was impressed -and really liked it- that she could see Harry so clearly -with such unparallel perception- but they were getting into very dangerous waters.

“Nor were you that ignorant about Riddle.” she continued, speeding up, “You know more than enough, before inviting him to your home... Cy was very eager to tell me what he did to Walburga.” a pause, “...and I really doubt he would have shared this with me but keep it from you.” her voice dripped with derision.

Leonard was screwed, ten times over, but his mind was stuck on one thing.

“Cy told you!?” it really went beyond belief.

A strange expression passed over Meli's face. Not a smile, more like a pained grimace, but for a single moment the icy chasm between them wasn't that deep.

“Walburga terrifies him - and he had heard enough about what happened to me to know that I would be pleased to know she finally got her just deserts, for daring to pull at Evans the same trick she did to me.” her tone was deadly cold.

Leonard wanted to rub his eyes, he had no idea she was still so bitter regarding this. She appeared always so strong, putting everything behind her.   

He suddenly felt ashamed, for always acting the gentleman and keeping his rightful retribution only for the boys, that dared offend her and not the bitch, she deserved his curses -if not punches- as much as they, maybe worse.

Meli's admiration to Riddle -for doing _exactly_ what he should have done- hurt, much like acid.

_‘Even if -that- was out the question he should have done something!’_

“I'm sorry, Mel, I should have given her a good cursing too, for doing that to you... She was hardly a lady to deserve my consideration.” He wanted to rub the back of his neck.

A tiny smile broke.

“It's alright you didn't, I prefer you a gentleman.” A pause, “Lucretia did more than enough and it was utterly appropriate.” Another pause, “I'm just glad she got what was coming to her...” confessional tone.

Leonard allowed himself a smile.  
“So do I, Mel, so do I.” - _for more than one reason._

Another pause, nearly companionable, while Leonard tries to find something to utterly derail the previous subject. He could accept her leaving him (..just barely..) but not her accusations or her current acuteness. They hurt far too much.

“Do you truly believe she did the same thing to you and Harry?” he suddenly asked her. “The situation was somewhat different.”

Meli sent him a dark look, maybe even suspecting of his motives, but answered him.

“There were some differences, in consequences: trying to send him to Azkaban _-as a pederast of all things-_ and rendering me a social pariah -by telling everyone I was easy and had all but brazenly offered myself to Riddle- but the basic motive, even execution, was just the same: Character Assassination.” A _very_ harsh look, accompanied by a harsh voice and Leonard confirmed it, he hadn't got away at all.

He nodded, nevertheless.

Meli's look became even more penetrating.

“Will you finally explain to me now, why do you consider me so weak, to be unable to handle the situation? Weaker than your mother and your _little sister_ , at least.” Sweet and tart and more piercing than a cutting curse.

Leonard swore inwardly, cursing his fate, but also accepted it. He wasn't going to be spared even the smallest scrap of dignity. ‘ _Not even the last humiliation.’_

“I don't consider you weak, Meli, anything but this. You are so strong, you have endured so much, hurting and not showing even a hint, and I can't stand even the thought of adding onto that hurt.”

Meli made to retort and it was Leonard's turn to put a finger to her lips.

“You want to marry me… Because you love me and keeping your word really matters to you. But have you really considered what that will mean, in a span of years? You say it's neither unusual nor shameful to be a Vassal.. but, have you ever considered how it will be like to be the Vassal's wife, or maybe even a Vassal yourself?”

From Meli's startled look, she hadn't. (or at least not seriously)

“Even if you don't feel humiliated, by any of this, you will still be following a Grey and a Dark Lord, while Light. Forced to keep secrets from your so _very_ Light family, and do it for years, you will be _so_ isolated...”

“Leonard.” Meli definitely sounded softer.

“No, you listen to me...” Leonard was getting frazzled, “Your parent’s marriage was irreversibly damaged the day your father sworn himself at Professor Dumbledore, without asking for your mother's consent, or even bothering to inform her... I did the exact same thing, only at the opposite side. Someday you are going to hate me.”

He felt almost physically sick considering it in such a context.

“I could never hate you, Leonard.” Meli interrupted his pity party, “...and you didn't do the exact same thing. We aren't married -yet- I could still choose to leave you, to have another life. I'm not trapped here.” definitely a softer tone, warmer too.

Leonard couldn't help but feel relieved and grateful for it, although he feared -given enough time- she was going to change her mind. But Meli wasn't done with him.

“...That doesn't mean I'm happy with it, just that I understand the grievous situation you found yourself in. I hope that in future decisions -that affects us both- you will consider my views just as well.” a pause.

“But you are one of the most considerate people I know, I trust you.” she smiled.

Leonard flushed both with warmth and a good dose of hidden shame. Meli's so high opinion of him was misplaced, at best. He had been lesser than what she deserved far too many times already.

“Merlin, Mel! I honestly have no idea why you have such a very high opinion for me, I hardly did right by you.” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“The only way I could handle the situation -the very decisions I took- was to get you out of the equation completely, like if you didn't exist... Your wants, your feelings were non-existent and the sole thought I spared for you was that you were away and safe, nothing else.” he couldn't contain his outburst.

“Leonard...” Meli tried futilely to calm him down, but there wasn't calming down for him, not at this point, he was well past any such thing.

“You are prepared to forgive me, on the condition I won't so grossly overlook your needs during perilous times ever again, but I can hardly promise even that much... Harry may need me for something dangerous -and I will be very insulted if he does but excludes me anyway- and there is no way in hell I will ever willingly involve you to such things at all.” Meli hissed in outrage, but Leonard continued, baring his soul all the way.

“The right thing would have been to let you go, the very moment I consciously took a different road, but I wasn't Gryffindor enough -hell man enough!- to do to your face!” he nearly shouted it.

“I avoided you instead, like the coward I am, until you came to find me... Even now, I told you as much I know -or even suspect- hoping - _and yet not-_ for you to decide on your own, but I didn't have the actual guts to force the issue and send you away... I just blabbered and blabbered... praying, utterly pathetically, that you will chose to stay anyway.” his voice wavered, in the end, but he still forced himself to continue, to make her see him in all his worthlessness.

“You are no coward, Leonard.” Meli insisted, but she looked at him with wide eyes, totally shocked by his outburst. Leonard couldn't let it -her- stop his confession.

“...Same thing about the political issue. We both know I'm not the only one feeling unease towards a particular _system_ and yet my heart soared to the heavens when you simply disregarded the whole thing - just to be with me...” Meli gifted him with a loving smile at this.

“...I didn't even let it stop me that I would be forcing you into the company of the very Wizard that dishonoured you - the Wizard with the gumption to do what he had to, -what I wasn't man enough to even attempt- when his own beloved got threatened.” finally admitting his greater shame.    

“...and you will know that you married the lesser one. I'm not a Wizard, Mel, I'm less than a flobbe...” … “OH!” Leonard wasn't able to finish this...   

Meli had cut him off by shoving him against a tree and taking his breath in the most efficient -and delicious- way possible.

_‘It looked like nothing was going to deter her from her decision.’_

However, when they drew apart, Meli was still furious with him, her hair utterly ruined and her lips a rich plum, but her eyes were shining with an unholy light that it would have taken a far braver man, than Leonard, to not pay his utmost attention.

“You.. will listen to me.. Leonard Charlus Potter and listen well. This matter is going to close forever, here and now. Alright?” It was clear that she was going to accept only an affirmation. Leonard was utterly willing to give it to her.

“Alright, Mel.” his heart soared with hope but anxiety gutted him as well, as he still had no idea how she was going to reply him, after his confessions.

“The only reason we are here, right now, is exactly because you are the man you are.- I would have never have gone into all that trouble -that heartache- to convince you fight for us, if you weren't worth it and I didn't love you with my entire heart.-” her index finger poked him at his chest.

“Even if I ever willingly considered marriage to another it would have happened for anything but romantic reasons.” a pause, “...It would have happened for me to get away.” a heavier pause.

Leonard stroked her hair, smoothing them a bit.  
“I know that, Meli.”

Meli shook her head, but she was smiling, and leant her head to his shoulder.

“Not fully so, living it day by day... My dad can be the kindest person, the most loving father imaginable and so supporting... so long he agrees with you. If it get past the limit of what he considers right and proper...” a light shudder.

“...You insist I'm Light, using it as an example why I should stay away, but am I, really? ...Would I be that for certain, had my parents allowed nature to take its course? ...You know they conducted The Delectu ritual before consuming their marriage. - Your own parents would have never considered such a thing.”

She didn't need further explanations, Leonard had witnessed over the years more than enough:

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

When Lord and Lady Longbottom were in alignment you would never see a more harmonious pair, if not...Well the saying ‘Hell on Earth’ came very _very_ close, if a bit tame.

Thing is, he always attributed it at Lady Callidora, as the most obvious domineering one, and had always dismissed Lord Neville, due to his kindness - although he had, as Meli pointed out, a certain awareness of some very questionable -albeit deeply traditional- decisions...

_(....and yeah, his parents had very much taught him to find utterly abhorrent any attempts at such rituals...)_

He would have never guessed this _strictness_ reaching his children but, then again, Sir Neville had very few reasons not to be proud of them, less even to disapprove: What with Meli's love of plants and Anthony eagerly serving the Country…

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

 Any word he could now say would sound either patronising or stupid so Leonard choose to simply hold her, until their heartbeats felt like one.

“You aren't anything like my father.-” she whispered softly, once again looking him fully to his eyes.   

“....You may do - _or say-_ everything in your power to protect me, from what you consider a bad situation but you will never ever force the issue ‘for my own good’ even if you insist you would, ...you don't have it in you.” she stroked his cheek.

Leonard couldn't help the warmth blooming and expanding to his chest, but part of it was bittersweet.

 _‘It was just luck -and bad one- that circumstances had made her to appreciate even his weakness... She wasn't manipulative -not intentionally- she merely had some emotional scars he wasn't already aware about.’_

Leonard swore to himself to love her all the more, for them.

But Meli knew him, far too well, to not notice the looming shadow.

“It's not a weakness, Leonard,” she continued. “Its respect.- The true, most intense strength... You don't need to force others to follow your beat, to gain a form of self affirmation, you take them right as they are... Nor does hide a lesser love. You not only allow me to make my own decisions but, even when you consider said decisions dangerous, you follow me right along...”

 _‘‘Greenhouse 13!’’_ That thought couldn’t help but cross Leonard’s mind and he saw it form at Meli’s, as well... A moment, and they were clutching each other, laughing near hysterical;

_‘What an adventure that had been!’_

But, when their hilarity ended, Meli regarded him even more solemnly than before.

“...You didn't just carve a place in your life, for me, you shaped yourself to fit in my own world as well. How many times did you help me in my work over the years? I've lost count, years now, even though you certainly didn't start by love of plants, I remember you were all but failing Herbology at the time.” a wicked smile for all the intense moment.

Leonard couldn't help himself but to snort, although it had proved to be anything but a bad thing, fitting himself to her world.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

  _{...Seeing her mussed and smudged and bending every which way, while they worked -hell having her all to himself- endeared plant life for him for all eternity, adding to his fervent imaginations, all this time - and he doubted he was going to dry up from ideas even after their marriage. (...this tree for example...)_

_Working with her -and feeling like that- had also taught him restraint - not only was there no way he would treat her like those cretins that had attacked her, but he also didn't want her to feel obligated to accept him (or worse sending him away from working with her)_

_...it was only after their parents informed them - together - and he saw her face light up, like she had been granted the very heavens, that he allowed himself to be with her without holding back._

_(Always keeping up propriety of course)}_

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

 “You created this, for me.-” she gestured towards the cobbled path's end, at their three greenhouses.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

{...The greenhouses he had built and equipped with every scrap of knowledge he had gotten from her over the years, (..he really expected her to expand given time, probably to more than two..) but everything that he had done (..everything that was to come..) he had done them not just for her but for them both...

He still wanted to continue his father's business but he intended to be involved in her work and help her with her dreams just as well.}

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Leonard could only nod, equally solemn.

Meli took a long, fortifying breath and continued.

“I'm now asking you to allow me share your life, in the same way. In all that you are, whatever your choices, danger or safety, let me be at your side.” a breath.

“Even your political choices aren't that much of a hurdle. Yes, I dislike the game, as it's played but, from what I saw, Harry is hardly the traditional player. I doubt I will be overtly disgusted with him...” curt tone but with a touch of humour, and Leonard knew that her acceptance was much stronger than her cautious words implied.

Then Meli seemed to steel herself.

“I'm not a hypocrite. I'm not going to stop you, not even whine, if you take missions from Harry. I will support you exactly as you supported me.” it was an oath.

“That said, I expect Harry to train you at the very best of his ability and them some, before allowing you to embark in any such missions.” again slightly tartly, and just a tad threatening, but utterly honest and immovable as a mountain.

There was little doubt she was going to - _insist-_ about this, maybe even ensuring it, and yet Leonard found himself with a wide smile, potential embarrassment (...and incoming training from hell...) aside.   

_‘She was -really- going to stay!’_

“You're pretty much incredible, Mel, you know that?” he barely contained himself from whooping and twirling her in his arms.

He expected a tease, but Meli's look was taking no prisoners, this time.

“Where thou art, Gaius, there am I, Gaia. I invoked this encompassing everything,  not merely as the First Oath.” heartfelt words, but it was apparent that this time she expected a full out (..official..) returned declaration, not a half-arsed job.

Leonard was ready to give it, at this point. Egotistical, as it may sound of him, she had earned it - or at least that much.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

{More to the point, the part of him that was Dorea's son had started revaluating the immediate danger Tom and Harry were currently representing and, even more so, their stability as a possible long term couple....

_Tom, however angry with Harry, had gone all out to defend him, even to support his positions, all while Sir Neville had never supported (more like discouraged) his wife's causes and his dad always supported his mom (on a good deal of the same causes) even occasionally participating - so there was no way everything was just pitch dark._

Everything seemed way more positive, under that prism. _He could really do this_.-}

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Consequently, as he bowed -to ritualistically kiss both her hands- it was both deeply heartfelt and yet a very conscious choice. Something shifted between them.

Meli was certainly on him.... Her smile was radiant, even up to her eyes, but there was still something very shrewd at them.

“Leonard, one more thing.” casual tone, but there was no mistake, he could just bet it was damn important. He nodded wordlessly, once again.

Meli's eyes bore into him.

“Never, not once into those years, did I ever considered that Tom dishonoured me, I didn't allowed him that much power over me.-” a loaded pause,

“...Yes, his words hurt -unbearably so- but they were no different than any other such comment, even from Gryffindor boys. The only reason they caused so much damage was Riddle's general popularity and the various rivals for his affections.” her voice dripped with derision.

“They were perfunctory and nothing original, utterly superfluous.-” she assertively declared, and took an ostentatious pose

“ _-‘‘Her? ...Why would I ever consider being with her, much less seriously? Nothing all that special to her, in either looks, personality, or power, much like a plant really... less interesting than her precious plants as a matter of fact._

_...Add to that, she's so utterly wholesome and light, so boring, that she practically sets my teeth on edge, and you really thought she could ever be considered, even as a mere possibility? Please!’’ -”_

The mimicry was perfect!

Meli had expertly exaggerated Tom's precise, arrogant drawl, turning to into a fine-edged mockery and sprinkling it with utter disinterest. However, the very fact that she had recited the whole thing -word for word- told Leonard a very different story regarding her feelings and recovery... -The bastard had scarred her for life- ...Still, he wasn't going to embarrass her by showing that he noticed.   

“I still wish I had decked him...” that much he could admit.

Meli smiled, a small wry smile.   

“And I'm still glad that you didn't.- Seeing you decking Cygnus had been satisfying enough.” an intense look. “Crossing him, on mere hearsay, would have disastrous consequences, and you were well aware of it, even then.” her eyes were full of understanding.

Still, Leonard couldn't stand her gaze... She may have absolved him -then or now- but they both knew how much he had failed her. She was trying to address exactly that, but he was suddenly _so_ tired of this subtle roundabout.

“He deserved ten times worse than a fist to his face.-” he wasn't going to budge at this - _ever_.

Meli didn't even twitch.

“Maybe so, but what would have happened if he got them... assuming even that he allowed it?” she asked him patiently, looking at him with earnest eyes.

Leonard tried to consider this:

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

 _{How it would have been if he had been powerful enough to take on Riddle?_ _  
_ _He had never challenged, as he dearly wished, for he had been -and was- well aware that there no chance of winning and his defeat would have made things more difficult for Meli, not easier... but what if?_

_What if he was strong enough to defeat Riddle and make him submit? -To force him to cough back all those horrible things he had said about Meli?_

_It would have been utter glory for him, nothing less, but what about Meli?_

_The open gossip would have stopped, of course, that was the unwritten rule about it. But would it stop it completely? It should._

...That was what Honour would have demanded.-

 _Still, it would have been the juiciest gossip at Hogwarts in over a hundred years - No one was -ever- going to forget it._ -}

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Leonard blanched.

“I'm sorry, Mel, I should have thought about you, not my pride.” he felt like a heel.

“But, you did.” Meli's expression was even beyond radiant, “You did, my Leonard.” she looked ready to start kissing him, all over his face.

Leonard just looked at her, in complete incomprehension.

“...You didn't act the way your rage -your very instinct- urged you to… You controlled yourself, thinking of me, and didn't resort to mindless, unnecessary violence!” her eyes were shining with pride and something else, not as easily readable.

Leonard felt, if it were possible, even more confused. He sure as hell didn't recall acting half way as calm, much less civilised.

“Not mindless violence? That's a good one! The way I remember it there were four guys hauling me away from outright killing him. Even then, Cygnus spent the whole day and night at the hospital wing, with bruises over bruises - and getting - _all-_ his teeth reattached. John, Alastor, and the rest still tease me about it.” Still, it wasn't something he could regret. _Ever_.

“I also used the word _unnecessary_.” Meli's expression was nearly savage. “We are Gryffindors, in our veins runs fire and blood, not ice... I'm never -ever- going to look down at you, for this, or stop being grateful.-” her voice could have been described only as honeyed.

Leonard coughed lightly, flushing up to his ears.

“...Cygnus Lestrange had accosted me, right after classes, hurrying to inform me -for my own good- He didn't even care whoever may listen in the corridors, maybe even counting right at that, to spread the word.” (an expression of disgust)  
“I'm sad that he died so young, as for anyone our age, but not for this. I stopped considering him family that very day.-” a note of pure steel.

‘ _...and he had been her first cousin, the bastard!’_

Still, no matter how much he agreed with her, or how happy he was that his actions, over this, had pleased her so, he was still very confused as to why she insisted on this now.

“You still don't get it, do you my Leonard?” her smile was again very sweet and enticing.

“If you had acted the way _-you-_ wanted Tom would have been next.... You were so worked up you would have found him right after dinner and made him pay, no matter the consequences, but you didn't. You thought of me and restrained yourself, without even my own prompting. Not even my own parents actually did that.” the last sentence came out a tiny-voiced confession.

“Mel?” Leonard had no bloody idea how to reply at this.

Meli just looked at him, there was something fierce and yet remote in her eyes.

“My father wanted to exact _Retribution_ on him for the insult, - and his Wizengamot position would have forced Riddle's submission-” a _not_ so subtle shudder of terror.

Leonard definitely shared that sentiment _\- humiliating Riddle in such a manner back then would have been very scary, knowing of him enough to expect a nasty revenge. Today, it was utterly petrifying - knowing -for a fact- he would have killed them all._

“-My mother, on the contrary, didn't want a public punishment. She wished instead to discreetly arrange his death.” Meli continued her confession, even more quietly and shamefaced. Then she met his eyes once again.        

“I begged them _-begged-_ to reconsider, not only because I didn't want Tom dead - or even hurt - on my behalf, but because I couldn't stand the consequent rumours following me for the rest of my life.” her cheeks were redder than flames.

Leonard was speechless with shock and it had nothing to do with Meli's portion of the confession _(who in their right mind would want to be known for torturing or murdering someone else out of rejection?)_ ; no, it was her parents that had chilled his blood.

 _‘Actually considering doing those things to a fourteen year old kid?’_

He had lost a great deal of his positive impression.  
_‘Did he even know those people at all?’_

_(Granted it was Riddle, who was a kind of unique -sore- case all by himself. Still, even he knew there was a difference from imagining revenge to just a step before actually doing it)_

However, the silence had been stressed for far too long, and Meli looked like she had shrunk into herself, clearly believing he had lost all his respect, maybe even love for her. Leonard needed to fix it. - _Even if -he- had to fall even further in her eyes to do it._

“...You think I didn't hit Riddle only to protect you?-” he started, nearly out the blue. Meli looked at him closely, full of curiosity and suspicion, but she didn't look all that desperate to him, anymore - and all her attention was on him.

“Professor Dumbledore had saved my skin, to only three months of detention, due to the very public alleviations and my compromised state, but had warned me that any more such attacks and I'll be out. I've saved my own arse.” he admitted his greatest shame.

_(also feeling a pang of guilt regarding the professor, but war captivity or a life even weighed far more than avoiding expulsion)_

“I just waited for things to quiet out and the gossip to blow over.”

Meli _didn't_ look disgusted with him.

“...and you thought that this will lessen you in my eyes?” she asked him tenderly, kissing him chastely but intensely on the lips.

“It _should_ have blown over. -and it _would_ have if Walburga hadn't taken it upon herself to make sure I was out, permanently so, with her malicious gossip.” a sigh.

“Tom himself wanted this over and done with. He didn't apologised -of course, he wouldn't- but there was no hint of a move against you, for Cygnus, and even less so after Rosier tried to corner me at Greenhouse 3. It was the smart thing to do.”

‘... _Well, that explained why she didn't wish for Riddle's guts_ …’

_However, the memory of what that shit Rosier had tried to do to her still boiled his blood to a frenzied point... ‘He had honestly no idea as to how he had managed to just challenge him at a duel and not kill him with his two hands.’_

“Rosier was an animal -all of those bastards were nothing more than animals. They. Deserved. Worse.” he snarled.

Meli sent him a look with so much love he felt warm and giddy all over.

“...You _still_ haven't understood my main point...I don't want a thug as my husband, someone that will not bother to think but merely violently react to any perceived threat, never once caring to see the bigger picture. If I wanted such a man I would have considered Lachlan's McLaggan suit the previous year.”

Leonard couldn't help an angry noise.

‘ _That bastard was nothing more than a puffed up little shit, not better than the likes of Avery, Smith and Rosier, just slightly better behaved - to avoid creating any kind of scandal for his daddy...’_

Meli smiled at his reaction, throwing her arms around his neck.

“You aren't a thug, my Leonard, you always consider your actions, even if you don't appear to be doing so. Nor are you any less of a Gryffindor for knowing where you leap, it's all the braver for it, and you always _always_ keep your ground where you stand.” her honeyed tone was back.

Leonard outright melted.

“But...” he tried one last time. Meli wasn't having it.

“You are the bravest man I know, approaching Evans or even Riddle to protect your family, which definitely needed that -and absolute selflessness- but I already knew that about you -for years- right from when you crossed swords with my mother for her wish to engage me to Armand Rosier after the incident.” She made a hard face.

Leonard barely held back from swearing.

“She was mental.” It was the blandest thing he could say.

“Rosier also belongs to the Twenty-Eight,” Meli wryly reminded him, “...and it was the easiest way to avoid another scandal.”

Only Leonard's willpower stopped him from replying as he wished. He didn't need to, Meli's expression was far too knowing.

“It was the bravest, kindest thing I ever saw in my life.... I knew that I was definitely going to marry you, given the chance, after this.” She spoke with complete sincerity.

“You did?” She had thanked him profusely, and kissed his cheek, but he wouldn't have imagined that!

Meli's smile became mischievous.

“Assuming you wanted me, and that it just wasn’t you being protective, yes.” a smile, “...It was my other heartfelt ambition.” Then her expression sobered up.

“Even without that, you were still my best option to avoid such a horrible marriage. If my mother kept insisting, I would have seduced you, to ensure that you would have married me instead, even if you did it mostly out of duty... I wouldn’t have accepted Rosier. Never.-” a light shudder of revulsion. Then she looked at him, utterly shame faced.

“So you see, even if it didn’t come to this, I’m hardly in a position to cast stones.” still beet-red, even if she was meeting his eyes.

Leonard did see. -

_(...and while he would have willingly protected her in such a case, even been grateful that she sought his protection, he was a hundred times more grateful now, knowing that such a dutiful marriage would have been unbearable to her now that she didn’t simply like him, but loved him…)_

\- he could only hold her tight, as tightly he could.

Meli returned it, then looked at him, again. _  
_ “Nor do I begrudge you for thinking of yourself as well,” she softly continued.

“...No love -or marriage- can stand by putting one person's needs, all the time, above the other's...” a momentary shadow, “We are meant to be together, partners, both equals, not one of us always giving in. Anything else will be just a travesty.” She was completely earnest!

Leonard could certainly agree to this, it was maybe a bit modern, but very close to the ideal he was raised with. _-However, he still held precedence in protecting her.-_

‘ _More so, Meli had seen his weakest, most shameful secret and not only accepted him with it but loved him all the same!’_

A huge, warm knot at his throat had overtaken Leonard, threatening to take him all over, he needed a way to express this or he was going to be bawling like a baby.

Leonard took her arms from around his neck, kissed them, and fell on one knee.

“Meli, will you marry me? ...I'm not worthy of you, my expected inheritance is about half of what it was before, I can't give you an equal social station to what you have and deserve -you are never going to be Lady Potter- and I most certainly can't give you children.-” his voice wavered at this.

“But, I love you with my whole heart and soul and I'm going to love you for the rest of my life... Will you please marry me, as soon it can be arranged? ...Maybe even tonight - alongside Minerva and Alphard...” There, now he had it all out, exactly as he felt, no apparent reluctance and calculations involved.

As he started talking Meli had looked at him with vast astonishment _-hadn't they already settled this?-_ however, as he continued on, comprehension seemed to set and she was taken by sheer emotion, unabashedly crying and laughing at the same time.

“Yes -yes- yes, I will marry you!” She threw herself at him, nearly knocking him up against the tree, and any sense of propriety was lost for a long time.

_(he had frankly had no idea where her glasses ended up)_

Finally they ended up lying in the shadow of said tree, with her long honey-blonde hair bracketing his face and him, very carefully, keeping her strictly above ground. _(Way too frozen to seriously consider what his body and her hot hot breath were urging him to pursue)_

“You stupid, -stupid- stupid, boy....” she whispered to him, peppering his face with kisses. “A high standing in society concerns only my mother, it means nothing to me if I don't have you.” More kisses, “...Same with your inheritance, we'll still have more than enough to pursue our dreams,” she practically beamed.

Leonard was dizzy from her kisses and very relieved. Still, those were relatively easy things. And Meli noticed.

“Stupid!” she growled, kissing him once more. “I won't say that the finality of never having children at all wasn't something to consider once, but can't say I have such an itch to procreate -now or ever- More to the point, while I'm sad it hurts you so, I know you want -ME- and not a broodmare.” steely vehemence.

Leonard believed her -for the most part- _especially about the part of wanting her for herself,_ but she had mentioned kids before, so they were a possibility with him outside of that particular picture.

“Don't.-” Meli's voice was an uncompromised warning, as she took a good look at his face. Then she seemed to be making a decision.

“I, Melissanthe Irene Longbottom, soon to be Potter, swear upon my magic to never attempt having a child with any man other than my future husband. So mote it be.” She wasn't holding her wand but Leonard felt the magic coursing her body  
\- _It was done._

Leonard felt touched to near tears.  
“Meli.” He couldn't utter another word.

“Shh, I understand, I love you too,” she stroked his cheek.

Leonard just held her even tighter, above his heart.

“You silly thing,” Meli told him after a little while, “It's not like it's a complete - _No-_ to having children, there is always adoption. ...and, if you want to go the full way, you have Tom around, the man that brought professor Dumbledore at near apoplexy, at Alchemy, when he claimed that even ancient rituals can be edited to work today.” a smile.

“I believe, if we ask him, he may actually work something for us!”

Leonard was stunned with this, it was certainly not an idea that would have ever crossed his mind, but it was not without merit. They will surely need Harry's help at this (or a heavy price) but once Tom committed to help he was going to deliver.- He was far too proud of his work to offer anything less than perfect.

He was even more stunned as he felt suffused with hope, for a moment. Someday, there was a slight possibility he was going to have kids...

_(not to be anything less than other Wizards)_

“You are utterly amazing, Mel!” There was nothing teasing in his voice.

“That's why you'll marry me.” and a hidden smirk in the quality of hers.

Leonard didn't reply with words, just shoved his hands into her hair and kissed her with all his feelings. _(his primal instincts definitely not staying away from this)_

Meli responded just as fervently, once again not shrinking away from what she did to him. However, when they separated for a moment to draw breath, the heat from her stare (he could feel more than see) nearly done him in.

The dye was cast, she was to be his wife tonight. _(just not on the frozen ground)_

“Let's get back home...” he told her near gruffly, “You need to fire-call your mother -and I suppose Augusta- you'll need -at least- some of your things as well.”

Meli kissed his nose.

“Yes to the fire-call, not necessary for the rest, I have near everything here...” she patted her pocket, “...even up to a wedding robe.” she was again calm, though her mischievousness was also present.

Leonard couldn't help but feel slightly offended.  
“You were _that_ sure for me?” although granted, he was _that_ besotted.

Meli winced.

“I hoped,” she clarified, “And I needed to move fast, before dad changed his mind,” she ended with brutal honesty.

It was Leonard's turn to wince. He desperately wished for some snow, to throw at her, and make her smile again.

“I'm glad you did.” he finally admitted and Meli's warmth engulfed him once again.

Finally, they helped each other up and started fixing their clothes...    

They were completely on the same page but the beguiling tension that hadn't found immediate relief was building up once again between them.

Leonard felt like they needed something more...

“Ubi tu Gaia, ego Gaius.” _There.-_ Now _everything -finally-_ felt completely right.-    
Meli replied by kissing his hands.

They looked at each other, trembling and with wide eyes.

What had started as a subtle shift, as she declared herself and he acknowledged it, (softly enchanting and emboldening their desire) had become a click, locking them together. There was no step back after this.

Meli and he were indeed going to get married this night, but it was going to happen right now, not at an unspecified moment after dinner.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

_**Dumbledore's pov** _

“Thank you, Algernon, I really appreciate you taking the time to tell me this.” Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore smiled warmly at his former student and maintained a cordial expression up until the fire-call's end.

Only then did he allow his shoulders to slump.

Wearily, soul-tired beyond words, he got up from the floor, immediately collapsing onto a stuffed chair, and he summoned to himself a large bottle of limoncello and a glass. Not even his beloved lemon drops were going to cut it this time.

‘ _How could -this- happen?_ _  
_ _How could things have gotten this far?’_

Riddle and Evans, whatever else they may be, were still schoolboys.... They shouldn't have gathered that much respect. Nor should they have been allowed to make such a decisive first step onto the political chessboard.

_‘How could Jasper have allowed this, much less subtly support them?’_

Albus didn't understand. His friend and ex-colleague was a Light Wizard -through and through- and had a much better understanding of the stakes than the average Wizard (even if it wasn't a complete one). He _should_ have known better.

_(just as he should have known better than refusing him vital information on the mere fact that he wasn't a fully bound part of the organization any more. Jasper wasn't a naive recruit, he should have known that such constraints, as rules and regulations, were only to burden him instead of helping him do what he must. It was necessary for him to work unburdened, even assisted in the small things, to end the war)_

Still, it wasn't done out of malice or selfishness, much less a betrayal to the Light; of that Albus was certain. Jasper, like Nicolas and Sol, (his dearest mentor) wasn't just a Light Wizard, but so much more. All of them were 'The Light' as far as he was concerned. Embodying the very ideal and every virtue associating with It, no more capable of betraying It than he was. Jasper had simply made some mistakes.

The only excuse he could give him -the only reasonable explanation here- was that he wanted the war over and done with, at nearly any cost.    

_‘How could he even imagine that a war won by Riddle and Evans could have a much heavier price than one won over by Gellert?’_

It was nearly unthinkable, but it was nevertheless Albus' most sincere belief.

_(...Those two were utterly capable of unwittingly causing everything he and Gellert ever feared about, but equally unable to see it - or chose a different road...)_

Albus emptied that first glass, refilling it again (near moderately this time, for all his aggravation) and somewhat calmer now, attempted -hardly for the first time and in all probability not even the last either- to come at an understanding at how they managed to reach that far - and in such small amount of time...

It was simply maddening... He was the last person _ever_ to doubt either their talent and capabilities -or their danger- he kept them under very close watch (as much as possible) and yet, he hadn't been able to predict this, much less prepare to react accordingly...

Worse so - _if he had missed this, how much more did he actually miss with those two terrors?_ It was anything but a comfortable feeling for Albus...

Riddle and Evans had been thorns in his side for years. Riddle, since he was a kid, clearly psychopathic and already drenched in the Dark, and Evans since he started realising his true character. He appeared so unassuming, so harmless, but that was before Riddle really put his claws into him.

...Well, the unassuming part remained, it was the harmless part that proved an utter fabrication (Albus still shivered remembering with what ease he dispatched enemy combatants, making it a game with Riddle, it could be hardly be called human). Still, even that utterly chilling talent was only a part of what made Evans the problem he was...

No, the most terrifying part about Evans was that he honestly believed he was still on the side of the angels. He had completely surrendered to his passion for Riddle (..just as Albus feared he would..) justifying it to himself as trying to change him for the better, unable to see -the little fool- that Riddle was instead corrupting him more and more, day by day...

Albus himself had nearly made that mistake once: that there could be found a kind of balance with the Dark... A common way to strive together towards the Greater Good. How utterly misguided he had been, how naive...  
-Dark magic wasn’t merely another form of Magic, as Dark Wizards tried to sell, but Magic’s greatest corruption.  It had needed a tragedy -the greatest tragedy in his life- to open his eyes...

...And yet, for years later, he wondered what would have happened had he given in to Gellert's pleas and had followed him along. Would that _maybe_ have made a difference?

That question remained with him, up to that terrible _-and yet utterly ecstatic-_ year, of 1916, when he met Gellert once again, spent time with him - in their all too brief, for his greedy heart, reconciliation - and had to deal with his darkness… _(and yet nearly unparalleled insight)_

Then the question took a life all of its own, literally torturing him.

_...Still, he was never ever going to exonerate him, no matter how much he may understand._

_(...Gellert's concerns were very much Albus' concerns, even today. It was only his ex-lover's extreme methods… and the very heavy price they brought forth… that he was deadly set against. Alas, even with his own predictions coming true, in the most terrible, tragic way possible, Gellert was still unable to see the very error in his ways and repent...)_

-At this point in his thought process he needed even more limoncello, just to keep the bitterness from overwhelming him-

Ironically enough, it was only Evans' presence (and descent to darkness) that had started to somewhat ease that hurt, giving him an answer to that old question...    Harry Evans may had given all his heart and efforts to make Riddle turn over a new leaf, but it seemed -at best- a double edged sword. For, while Tom remained, at large, a Dark wizard -with the changes to his character minuscule at best- Evans' magic (and even personality) had taken the most dramatic shift towards the dark...

_It was a travesty! A disgrace! One of the saddest things he had seen in his life!_

Albus would have never been able to live with himself, after such a change, not even for his golden Gellert, so he knew he had acted for the best at least.

His ego may have wanted to argue this, to insist that he was far stronger than Evans - that his Gellert had ten times the heart of one like Riddle - but he wasn't deluding himself: Gellert had been committing hair-raising atrocities for up to three decades already (those that he knew of). It was very unlikely his own presence would have made a huge difference, other than small things.

More to the point, Evans may have been deceived _(or deceiving himself to keep his love)_ but he was immensely strong too, and not just magically. _(Riddle wouldn't have given him the time, or day, if he wasn't)_

In all truth, Evans reminded Albus mostly of himself _(a more selfish him maybe)_ full of passion, talent, and righteous conviction - he just hasn't learned -yet- that all of those meant absolutely nothing if one wasn't ready to put them fully in the service of Greatest Good.

(...Part of him felt for Evans, if he ever came that realisation, but that didn't change the bigger picture _-what did it matter a mere boy's feelings -or his own- if there were lives (millions of them) in the line?_ The very best he could hope for Evans was that he would be neutralised, alongside Riddle, without causing any more damages - or having to live in regret, without his love, for the rest of his days...)

-And No, Albus wasn't envious of the pair, his heart wasn't tightening in his chest every time he saw them getting lost in each other's eyes. It was so tragic and futile, all of this... Riddle didn't even actually love Evans, in the first place.   

Not that he didn't feel anything at all, Albus had been forced to re-examine things:

Riddle wouldn't have risked defending him against Miss Black's charges if he was merely using him, but it was still a small, twisted thing, a mere reflection of his own attributes to the other, not the glory that was selfless love. Riddle wasn't capable of that kind of genuine emotions.

( _He still remembered his mother reading them Saint Paul’s wise words:_

**_‘‘Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.’’_ **

_He was hardly religious, but they had touched him like nothing else in his life, and he frankly doubted that someone like Riddle could ever feel them, or even merely comprehend them. Gellert, at least, had started with a heart._ )

However, genuine emotion or not, Riddle had, of course, the frightening intelligence to realise exactly what kind of -huge- gift Fate had thrown at his lap and appeared to play along, even indulge Evans, to his more radical, political whims. ( _changing his entire political outlook)_ Suddenly no pureblood Slytherin was ever found accosting -or even insulting- muggleborns anymore and a _certain_ practice between boys had come to an abrupt end.

Every such move that was instigated by Harry came from a honest heart- of that Albus had no doubt. But, what the time-traveling boy had failed -being far too inexperienced- and trapped in the mores of his original time to see -the actual bigger picture here- that the seemly distasteful - _or not so_ \- things he had attempted to - _cure-_ were either not all that bad, or in truth serving a much higher purpose.

Albus was never going to disregard that the way purebloods treated muggleborns was unacceptable and racist in every conceivable way... However, what he equally knew -in his heart of hearts- was that such unpleasantries were the very first and even last defence, such a child had, from ever falling into corruption and the Dark.

It was like a medical potion, completely unpalatable, at a first taste, but saving lives nonetheless. Unfortunately, it wasn't an opinion he could publicly share - not ever.

His opinion about the usual practice between boys was another thing his teaching position wasn't permitting him to tell...

...In all honesty he didn't find it _all that_ abhorrent, as an idea, even though establishing hierarchy and status _should_ have _nothing_ to do with love, or even pleasure...    

However, even with that -so obvious- glaring flaw, he still saw it as a vastly positive system, teaching boys about their bodies and mutual pleasure, without imposing their clumsy, early passions on innocent, tenderly shaped girls.

-Nature was well known for showing the way, after all-

...Not to mention the build up acknowledgement, even tolerance, towards different preferences - a kind of complicity, between boys, even if most of them grew to like girls at their later years...

...And then Evans -with Riddle- had barged in and destroyed that mostly beneficial system. Evans wasn't utterly without cause, Albus could acknowledge that much... Some of the older boys had indeed abused their position -and so had to stop- but Evans had taken things far too far, instigating a school-wide purge, instead of just disciplining his own House...

_\- For who else -but the Slytherins- would have been ‘‘ambitious’’ enough to attempt full penetration of eleven year old children?_

_{...Putting one's desires, pursuits and_ _‘-ambitions-’ before the good of the whole was the worst possible thing a person could do. His mother had taught him that_ _-_ _and he was grateful that he had taken that lesson to heart -and choose to avoid the snakepit- he had given her at least that happiness, before everything turned to ashes...}_

The only thing that had been truly _‘‘gained’’_ here was more school-wide influence, power, and respect towards Riddle. Nothing else.

...But that had been Evans' strategy, from the moment he had been converted, to open Riddle's circle as much as possible - to every House and every kind of blood status of students - and it was unfortunately succeeding... Riddle had been popular already, but now all kinds of students swore to his name - literally.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

 -Even his dearest Minerva.

It had been indeed a huge shock for him to actually see her at that circle, dreadful even. He had had so many expectations of her talent, such high hopes for her.

He had done the best he could to make her understand her mistake, even writing to her brother, but it was a difficult task and he didn't have much faith of getting through to her. It was - _hard_ \- breaking away from the dark, much less doing it for a second time. He had learned that the _-harsh-_ way.

All the same, he couldn't help but offer her a silent toast, hoping against hope that she was going to find once again her way to the Light.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Evans' involvement -and expanding shenanigans- hadn't only brought purely negative conclusions _(just the very vast majority of them)_ they had also -very thankfully- opened his eyes to something extremely disturbing...

Albus had been beyond perturbed to realise that, for all his close watch - for all his diligence - Tom had been able to snow him after all....

...Never, not even in his worse nightmares, would he had imagined that Tom Riddle would have been acknowledged as a Dark Lord, by his peers, much less so that he would have managed to keep it hidden -maybe for years- or -worse of all- even now that he realised it, to still be utterly unable to show proof of it.

...Gellert had attempted it -of course- but when his professors got wind of it he got expelled for his trouble. It was maddening that Tom had managed to outdo this and even worse so, that he swayed his peers -gaining their very allegiance- while there was already a Dark Lord, powerful and with a terrifying fame, even possessing the supposedly 'better blood'! It was plain unexplainable!

Albus could admit, in the privacy of this mind, that he had started to panic.

He was already dealing with a Dark Lord he couldn't take a second (never mind a third, if he counted Evans) even with vastly lesser resources... A known enemy of them was already violently dead (no way to prove they were behind it, or even that it was a crime) or to prove that Walburga Black had been tortured, as he knew she must been -no way Tom would have left such attack without reply- Horace, a man he usually trusted without question, had chosen that very night to challenge him at a lengthy chess game. _-He couldn't even trust his fellow teachers!_

Still, other than those _‘‘incidents’’_ and the fact that their popularity grew and grew - not in small part for their involvement in any battle they found themselves in close proximity to - there wasn't anything tangible to accuse them of or even something to draw closer attention to their deeds. Albus hadn't been able to catch them even in a broom closet, making out, for Merlin's sake!

He had started to despair.

At this point he would have welcomed another time-traveller willing to put an end to them - he should have seen that Evans' mere presence had already irrevocably damaged the timeline, if not destroying it altogether -and helped when he could- or even taken matters into his own hands. Though, even with those two, it was still so very hard for him to actually contemplate killing two of his students, no matter how necessary, it wasn't a part of his nature.

_(...Not to mention that young Lestrange had been noticeably unbalanced, for more than year, before his premature demise... There was a small chance it was indeed suicide, instead of murder. Walburga Black was still alive, after all, and Albus had been so certain that Tom was going to kill her...)_

_-Maybe there wasn't an immediate need for a decisive action -yet- maybe he could afford to wait..._

He had stayed in that distressed -and yet still dithering- state of mind for weeks, utterly unable to settle at a decision, when there was another battle at Hogsmeade - alarmingly close dated to the previous one... _(amazing how such things set one's priorities)._ Albus was at the castle, this time, so he hurried at the village, intending to help as much he could.

However, there wasn't much -if any- need for his help... Most Hogsmeade villagers had locked themselves into their homes, the only students around were the seventh years with Evans, Riddle, and the rest of their party holding the defense _(using the most vile curses possible)_ and doing beyond fine...

It was then that he sensed Gellert's magical presence at the village and something very close to peace finally eased his stress, as the most desperate -yet reassuring- of ideas crossed his mind.

 _-He was going to do Nothing._ -

It wasn't going to be the first time Gellert had unwittingly served the Greater Good, he even followed it after a fashion, the most twisted way possible but still...

He was exactly the right person to fix Albus' problem for him…  
Not to mention it was only natural for him to deal with the upstarts as it was…  
_(Not pleasant nor comforting, that thought for him)_

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

Yet, Gellert... had lost.

Unbelievable as it seemed Gellert had lost to two teenagers and nearly lost his life in the process _(...that memory kept playing to the back of his eyelids -the second worst memory in his life- worse even than when Gellert choose The Dark, instead of him...)_

This time the sedate drinking from the glass didn't give him much -if any- relief and he switched it directly to the bottle.

Albus' heart had lodged in his throat, in total disbelief and unimaginable horror, as he saw Gellert falling at his knees in front of Riddle. -At that very moment it hardly mattered anymore his dark deeds, even atrocities, the anger and acute bitterness, the nearly thirty years they had to speak...

He had believed himself capable of doing what he must -to end the war- when the time came, even though he still hoped to spare him (for more than one reason) but right then and there he had understood that he just couldn't bear to see him dead -for anything- and had interfered.

He hadn't thought. He hadn't weighted. He just did it. - He had yet to regret it.

Still, regretting it or not, like all actions it had consequences and Albus had to face them, gladly or not. Some of them were rather regretful.

First and foremost: while it would have been an absolute political disaster if Riddle and Evans had managed to kill Gellert, it wasn't all that better, as things were, right now:

They had been given the time and opportunity to network and establish themselves as emerging political figures. So long as they lived, from now on, they were going to be his direct opponents - no way about it.

_(Which was rather ridiculous, getting concerned with two teens - when there were so many serious players already in the game)_

Second -and equally unfortunate- his seeming 'apparent' double-crossing had cost him the Potter alliance.

There hadn't been an official declaration -not yet- but there was no mistaking that kiosk, he had glimpsed in Algernon's Wilson memories,  
Albus had been entertained there more than once. Nor was a mistake in the pivotal _leading_ role Evans seemed to have taken into the family... It was a rather regretful turn.

Albus supposed that he should have seen it, the self-styled Evans had a certain look to him, even if his rather unusual eyes distracted from it, but the time-traveling boy never made an attempt to approach the family -or any family- _(..the very last vestiges of honour, he suspected..)_ which led to the safe conclusion that it was the Potters that approached him and not the other way around.

Albus sighed.

He supposed that he couldn't really blame them -they just wanted their Paterfamilia back- not even castigate them even - they hadn't volunteer into this out of principle -like the Longbottoms did- but out of a wish for revenge.   

...Not to mention that Dorea Potter nee Black, for all her discretion, was just as dark as the family she originally stemmed from. He could hardly blame her for following her own inclinations and soughing help where she was the most comfortable. No, it was her son, Leonard, the one he was slightly disappointed with. - He believed him of better material.

Still, the main blame rested firmly on his own shoulders.

...He had been the one that failed to instigate Gellert to duel him, the previous year, after his duel with Auror Scamander - as Nazi Germany started to fail. Nothing of those calamities would have ever happened - if he had succeeded then... But no, Gellert had fortified himself to his stronghold, not leaving it for anything, and only sending his men to do his bidding...

Something needed to be done.

His best -only- bet to that something had been Charlus Potter.

Everything about that wizard was just plain perfect regarding this mission, from his personal talents/circumstances, even up to his family background. All of it seemed ideally made to aid him in success.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

 Charlus' family was a predominantly Light one -Light and Gryffindor- but with some unique peculiarities to their background: Aristocratic -some would call it Ancient- lineage and yet one that got mixed with muggle blood, on multiple occasions -a fact they never got into _that much_ trouble to hide.  
Their uncommon outlook also showing itself at their career choices, most of them pursuing scandalous, bourgeois oriented ones rather than the typical ones for so high born... Everything appearing at a silent war with the status quo.

_(...Charlus himself was a merchant, of literally anything enchanted or interesting, and though his enemies weren't shy to call him a smuggler they never brought forth any proof of it -or even attempted finding it- so Albus took it with a grain of salt...)_

Still, the most unique (and unfortunate) thing about that line was that around 1720, when the then Potter Heir (later Lord) married a Dark Lady, the most infamous and terrifying one to exist (second only to Gellert in notoriety) and not only procreated with her, (..henceforth tainting the bloodline..) but allowed her the political running of the House, consequently creating major problems to the Light for about the next century or so...

_(...And yet, even with such a taint, the Potter line wasn't utterly corrupted by this and found its way back to the Light over the next generations... Albus considered it the ultimate proof about Light's perseverance!)_

Charlus Potter held a vast hate towards Gellert Grindelwald, ever since the death of his brother -though he had been smart enough to be circumspect at expressing it- other than this he didn't seem to be such a huge adversary to the Dark -adoring his Dark wife and actively supporting her- Even up to, unlike other (Light and Dark) families, refusing to follow tradition and ensure their children's ‘proper’ affinity.

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

 All those singular traits, especially the questionable ones, were exactly the things to intrigue Gellert and give him various openings he could outright exploit. Nothing particular to suspect him either (even James' Potter death couldn't get attributed to him, without having classified access - which he could very easily deny, having never been in a Ministerial position) even his occlumency shields were top-notch.

Charlus Potter _should_ have been able to deceive Gellert and successfully gain his confidence - for the long run.

Unfortunately, he failed.- Contrary to all his expectations, his success to infiltrate Nurmengard lasted all of three weeks -if that- and he never managed to actually draw Gellert out. It was all for nothing.

...And it was now up to Albus to deal with the fell-up...

The family was devastated, naturally so, and so was he. Charlus was a brave man, it tore him apart that he had led him in such a fate...

Unfortunately -for everyone- the family -the wife mostly, but the son wasn't mature enough to differentiate at this- expected from him far more than mere regrets…  
Especially considering Charlus was miraculously still alive.

Albus would have been certainly all too happy to oblige, if only it was doable...

Tragically -for Charlus most of all- it truly wasn't. It was honestly all but impossible to breach Nurmengard, certainly _outright_ impossible without rivers of blood shed for the effort. He didn't have that many men -not even the Auror force did- and he truly doubted Charlus himself would have wanted it on such terms...

...He couldn't even send another spy -one that could possibly work out a way to free him- all the other men that followed his counsel were utterly Light.

_...If Charlus himself had lasted only a measly three weeks before being made out, anyone else wouldn't last a day..._

He needed to see this dispassionately, he couldn't sacrifice lives over nothing.

_-Riddle will be only too happy for it, of that he was certain-_

_(His heart suffered the thought of so many brave men giving their lives just so they would bring the fight over at Gellert. This could -and should- be planned so very differently..._ _  
_ _But, Jasper hadn't heard his pleas, hadn't asked for his advice, hadn't even included him - all of this was out of his hands!)_

Charlus himself would have understood, of that he was utterly certain - he was a Gryffindor, he had taken the mission already prepared to sacrifice himself. ( _only his wife wasn't)_ He just needed to concentrate on the bigger picture…

That's why he couldn't take the last -and more viable- option and duel Gellert -not yet- he couldn't afford it. Albus wasn't afraid of death, not for himself, -never- but he couldn't bear to die for nothing. He needed to do what he had to first.

There was no beating to that wand, at Gellert's hands, he had learned that the hard way, facing the cut down body of one of his most promising students. He couldn't duel Gellert with the option to lose, not when Wizarding's World-wide future rested on this. He needed to steal it someway first.

(...He still couldn't figure out how the Slytherin Duo had not only survived this but prevailed, but in the end it didn't presently matter how they could do it -only if it could be stopped- for while he couldn't -wouldn't- go against his country (no matter how much he feared the worse) and warn Gellert, he already saw the devastation that was to come...)

Riddle and Evans didn't plan a mere Auror or even Political career, that much was apparent after tonight. They were heading for something far more sinister... Harry may have had a good heart and believe he was doing the right thing, by bullying the Aurors to change their views, but it was hardly going to work. For any such changes to stay they needed time...

 _(...and they needed even more time yet, for their world to change, before the Muggleborns became a seamless part of said world,_ _else they would get corrupted, alongside the rest, instead of cleansing him...)_

It was Riddle once again though, that really scared him: This speech of his wasn't aimed to aid Harry, but to promote his own interests.

Albus had no doubt that if the new agriculture project became reality Riddle would either send people of his choice to fill the posts, or otherwise anyone filling it would be quietly informed on whom they really owed such opportunity...

It was plain recruitment.-

_...And that wasn't even half of his foolhardy plan..._

'Werewolves.- Riddle actively wanted to recruit werewolves.-'

Albus' blood trembled at the mere idea: werewolves were savage, uncontrollable beasts, steeped into ignorance and darkness...(he emptied the last in his bottle) Nothing existed that could actually help them... Albus was sad about this, but was also already resigned.

For young Tom to want recruit them, it meant that he had active plans to take their world by force instead of by politics like he pretended to...

Which really was a mild positive, at the right spin... Young Harry was an idealist but not entirely a lovestruck idiot. Someone _could_ possibly open his eyes…

.That being said, about werewolves, the boy may be up to something...

He -too- suffered when someone got bitten, when a life virtually ended without the dignity of an actual death, that would have been more of a mercy...

Still, maybe Evans was right,maybe there was hope for werewolf children yet. Maybe with the right teachings and plenty of support they could learn to reject their dark natures and embrace the Light once again... one could hope...

 _(...Maybe, if young Harry saw the light, such a noble purpose would help him live with himself, in peace if not happiness...)_ That was indeed something to hope for too...

Albus himself wasn't going to follow through indiscriminately, he had far too many students to protect, to risk literally throwing them at the wolves. One child -for starts- though, he could accept. He needed to know for himself…

(He looked mournfully at his empty bottle and glass) Albus could speculate all he wanted but the facts remained the same: The love of his life was in grave danger -from that horrid duo- the world itself could soon fall at said horrid duo and he, Albus Dumbledore, could do absolutely nothing at the current circumstances...

His only hope was that somehow those two would break up, which, alright, that wasn't impossible, power was too sweet a temptation to be easily shared but Evans was too devoted and an idealist to fight for it...

Still, Albus straightened his body, Tom was _anything_ but an idealist, he doubted he could handle another influence over Harry, he doubted more that he could tolerate Harry as his full equal, no matter how much he appeared to do so...

Tonight certainly didn't look entirely up to his tastes. He had a huge victory of course but it was only on the political field, Harry had everything on power...and he doubted that this had sat that well with Riddle...

... _Maybe the Greater Good worked already, from the shadows, maybe there was already a solution on the way..._

_...Perhaps Riddle wasn’t going to take it... He may have ended promoting his own interests but Albus frankly doubted he had voluntarily taken that specific road... Maybe he would even kill Evans, tonight - or they were going to kill each other..._

Albus still didn't feel entirely positive about this, but he set to retire on not entirely gloom spirits.

_...Maybe no one of them was ever going to touch again a mere hair of his Gellert...._

* * *

~ ***** ~

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *For anyone wondering Melissanthe means Flower's Bee in Greek and Meli Honey.
> 
> PS 10/07/2017 There was a good chunk missing from Dumbledore's pov and I restored it, please check it once again:)


End file.
